Truth and Reality
by Koi Carp
Summary: Cartman decides to create a reality show of Kyle, Stan, Craig, Tweek, Kenny and Butters living under one roof for 20 days. Slash. Language. Kyle's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N- Hajimemashite! Hi this is my first story ever and I'm kinda nervous. **

**I don't own South Park or its awesomeness, but you know that:) **

**The ending pairings are still unknown, but here I go. Hope you enjoy it!**

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><p>"Urgh…"<p>

Last day of school before the summer holidays and I have to wake up to the sound of my cell ringing at…four in the morning? I can only think of one person who would be up so early so I roll in my bed to grab my phone and press the electronic device to my ear, squeezing out the name of my best friend.

"…Tweek?"

"It's me you dumb Jew"

I automatically hang up to the sound of a pig that has somehow learnt to talk. Maybe I'm still dreaming? I don't laugh at my sarcastic joke. A cell in my brain wonders whether I should have listened to Cartman while the other cells shout, "Fuck that! Go back to sleep"

My phone wakes me up again a second later. Groaning, I extend my hand back to my phone, breathing deeply into the microphone. I'm way too tired to complain to him so I only say what I can manage.

"Fatso?"

"Don't call me fat you butt licker! Oh my god Kyle. You seriously need to know what I won and what I'm gonna do with it." He's half panting from excitement. I can practically feel his breath from the speakers. "But you just have to wait until we get to school hmm?"

With that, he hangs up, a complete and utter waste of two minutes of my sleep time. Despite my lightest interest of what he was talking about, I fall back asleep the second my finger presses the hang up button.

Seven o'clock. Yeah, that seems to be about the right time to wake up. I roll out of my bed, steadying myself on all fours before I make my way to my closet. It's summer, so I have all the freedom to wear short sleeves and shorts without the worry of getting too cold. I heave out a shirt and a pair of pants, fighting my half-asleep self into them. Yup, that seems more like me; long sleeves that fit right up to my wrists.

I make my way out of the house, saluting my mum and Ike, who were still eating their breakfast. I'm thirty minutes early. I scowl at my subconscious that is the slightest bit eager to find out what Cartman was talking about three hours ago. I hope he's not fucking planning another ridiculous, moneymaking scheme.

With my mind wondering about what kind of stupid ideas that fatass may be thinking of, I suddenly find myself ten feet away from the bus stop and notice that someone was already there. I feel my heart skip a beat, and then it starts to pump furiously. I duck my face down, feeling the scarlet heat creep to my cheeks. Goddamn it, I should be used to this my now. I mean, yeah, I haven't been alone with him (or really talked to him for that matter) for so long, but come on! I've been around him for sixteen years! I'm so pathetic. I mean, ever since I figured out my…

"Hey Kyle"

He greets me, cutting off my thoughts, pulling out one of his earphones, smiling at me. I feel my insides clench with guilt of my secret feelings towards him. It wasn't always like this. It's only been a couple of years since I… Goddamnit! I'm thinking too much this morning.

"Hey Stan." I manage to smile back, killing every single goddamn butterfly dancing in my stomach. I feel his smile widen slightly, warmth appearing in his eyes with relief. Shit. I seriously hate myself. I want to kill that Kyle Faggot Broflovski in me now and get back the old Kyle. Stan's Super Best Friend Kyle.

I sigh and stand beside him, facing down at my shoes. Pretending to identify the small scars.

So two years huh? Since I figured out my feelings with some help from a certain orange piece of shit. Just kidding. I can never blame him for helping me. How our relationship ended up now is completely my fault. While Kenny tried everything to convince me to confess my feelings to Stan, all I did was pushed him away, scared of ruining our relationship, and instead, breaking nearly everything between us.

I remember Stan's reactions completely when I began to form the distance between us. He held my arms, pleading for me to tell him if he had done something that could have caused my sudden behaviour. AllⅠdid was shake my head, ignore his calls, and form new friendships and we were broken. There you go; three easy steps on how to ruin a friendship. But the worst thing is the fact that I can see that he still wants us to be best friends again, and every inch of my body is aching to respond to that feeling. To apologise to him for everything that happened in the past two years. But what is stopping me, is my unchanging feelings, fear, guilt and my goddamn good-for-nothing pride.

I look up at him, stare at him unconsciously for what seems like the first time for what was much too long. I notice his long black eyelashes flinch, and I know that he has noticed my stare. But he pretends not to notice, to make sure that I don't get uncomfortable. His earphones are both out now. He is too kind towards me, even when I don't deserve any of it.

"Hey Kyle! Ngh…" I turn around from the shout of my name, finding my current best friend, followed by a bored looking Craig Tucker. Craig acknowledges my presence from Tweek's greeting and scowls at me, making me wince.

"Hi Tweek" I let out, walking towards him, ignoring the death glare of Craig. I unbutton Tweek's mismatched buttons and do them up properly. It's our routine, and every time I do it I can't help but notice our height differences. Oh how I hate my shortness. I only come up to about Tweek's nose and I'm at least a head shorter than Craig. As I finish some of the last buttons I notice Tweek tense at my touch.

"Tweek I know you hate the buttons up like this, but you can't let your stomach out like that!" I state after buttoning. I look up at Craig automatically after my actions and feel truly relieved that people can't die from glares, because if they could, I'll definitely be dead by now.

I know why he hates me. It's because I'm best friends with Tweek, his former best friend. But I didn't steal Tweek from Craig, hell no! They are still friends but they just aren't the best friends they used to be, and it's been like that for years now. But that doesn't stop him from hating my guts. But I think there's more reasons to his hate. No, I know it's more than that. I know Craig's secret, maybe it's mostly because I'm like him. Well, our circumstances are different I guess, but the idea is the same. We both fell for our best friends. Despite our similarity, I'm still scared of if he knows that I know. He might kill me with his laser eyes if he finds out that I knew his secret. That makes me think. Maybe glaring _can_ kill you if it's from Craig Tucker.

After a while of me chatting with Tweek, Stan listening to his mp3 player and Craig…well, being Craig, three more guys join our group. I greet Kenny and Butters with a light high-five with Kenny. It's our daily routine. I don't know why we do it though. (He's become more touchy-feely towards me during the last couple of years. I think it's because he hangs around Stan more and feels guilty towards me.) I scowl at the last fat figure.

"Cartman you fuckass why the hell did you call me four in the morning!" I yell at him and everyone turns to us with an amused face, except for that pokerfaced Tucker, simply tilting his head slightly.

"Awwww couldn't get to sleep from too much interest in what I was going to say Kyyyyle?" He batters his eyes and purrs. Ew.

"You better explain why you called me so fucking early in the morning!" I yell back. He smirks with satisfaction.

"Well I guess I can tell you now that everyone's here Kyle. Don't want you dying from curiosity." He ignores my scowl and begins his speech, forming one of the biggest smiles his fat cheeks could handle.

"You Guys. I have won. Ten. Million. Dollars." He emphasizes every damn word. "Seriously" He concludes.

Silence fills the air; well, it would have been if it weren't for my smirk of cause.

"Cartman! You know we won't fall for that dumbass." I burst out laughing, ignoring his scowl. But he waits patiently without interrupting me. It dies down eventually, my laughter.

"Now that little Shrimpy here got it out of his system I will like to continue." I glare at him. Don't fucking call me Shrimp you fucking fat piece of fat.

"If you want the story here it is, but I'm cutting it short 'cause I want to move to the good part. Okay. So. You guys know that I'm the Biggest Cheesy Poofs fan right?"

"Your body shows all Cartman" Kenny's comment is ignored and the fatass continues.

"Well, they announced that one of their official fan club members that eats over 200 Cheesy Poofs fastest will win ten million dollars and I, Eric Cartman won it."

I can't believe him, and I don't need to. Even if Cheesy Poofs is one of the greatest companies in the modern world (which is something I will never understand) and even if Cartman _is_ one of the greatest fans they could have. That's impossible.

"So you won ten million dollars and gained ten pounds. Double gain; not bad fatass" This time, Kenny's comment isn't ignored. Cartman walk up to him, pride and confidence hanging from his chest.

"Kenny if you say one more thing about my weight, you are not going to be a part of my oh-so-magnificent plan." He pokes Kenny in the chest, a smirk on his face. God, nothing can bring him down now; was he really telling the truth?

"What are you planning to do with ten mil?" Stan says, clearly uninterested in what he was going to say. It makes me smirk. "I didn't know you had anything planned for cash except for putting them in a pool and swimming in it."

"Been there, done that" Cartman answers Stan's statement with a 'how's that!' tone Yeah that's Cartman all right, doesn't know anything worthwhile to do with his money.

Me and Stan continue to stare at him with disinterest; Craig is back to dozing off into the atmosphere; Kenny looks at Cartman with pure amusement (of his stupidity) and Butters and Tweek stand there looking anxious, except for with the addition of Tweek's shaking and Butter's rubbing of his knuckles.

I open my mouth to accuse Cartman for his holdup before he stops me when he finally begins announcing his plan.

"You know, there's so much shit TV in the world now. Not enough entertainment to fill our lives, well, mine at least. So I have decided, with my Ten Million Dollars," he emphasises those words again, "to make a reality show and post it on my website. And I want _you_…" He points his finger at each of us; I hear Tweek squeak and I rub his arm for comfort. "six douche bags to be in it." Okay, nothing dramatic so far.

"Yeah? And _why _would we wanna do that?" I challenge him, cocking up an eyebrow

"Because Jewhole, I'm gonna pay each of you 50,000 dollars each if you do it."

My urge to laugh is cut by the yell of Tweek.

"Jesus Christ Man! I-I can't do it! Anything paying you that much money could only mean that they'll sell your body to mad scientists, Nagh! or the KGB o-or a cult or something…" Cartman sighs and rolls his eyes

"No Tweek I'm not going to sell you're body to mad scientists or the KGB" he says with an 'I'm sorry I'm not gonna do it again mom' type of tone.

"You dumbass Cartman, the KGB dissolved in 1991"

"Ay Tweek's the one who said it!" I hear another _GAH_! from beside me, but I continue to tackle Cartman

"Besides do you really think we would believe you? You wouldn't lend me a dollar let alone give us 50,000 each!"

"It's called business Kyle! Fine, if you don't believe me I'll prove it to you! Come!" He nods his head towards the direction of his house and stomps forward.

Dude, we've got school! My shocked expression hardens when I see Kenny and Butters following him. Tweek shakes hardly, then stumbles towards the same direction, then Craig follows him, and I'm left alone with Stan. He turns towards me, raises his shoulders and smiles with resignation before following the others. Hesitantly, I follow suit, jogging lazily. _Yeah, fuck the last day of school. _I tell myself.

When we arrive at Cartman's house we are greeted by his mother and welcomed to an triple chocolate ice-cream parfait. I am more than grateful for this. Despite the fact that I wear long sleeves in summer doesn't mean that I don't feel the heat. I just don't like showing my arms okay? Call me self-conscious all you want.

As we eat our parfait in the lounge, Cartman darts up to his room, returning with a pile of papers and his laptop. He drops all his papers onto the table where we were eating, making us grown as his papers fly into our ice cream delight.

"Look through those papers and then I'll take you to the last and ultimate proof." with that, he leaves the room with his laptop in his hand. He's darting all over the place, causing an earthquake with every step.

We grown again while dipping the papers out of the ice cream. Way to go Cartman, you fat fuck.

As I flick through the papers, only taking in the words and numbers half-heartedly, I feel my eyes widen with astonishment and my reading drops speed, cautious to leaving behind any words. The others, however, frown at the papers trying to analyse what they all mean. But I understand everything. All these papers, records of his bank account for the past year, receipts of every little thing he's bought that relates to his plan, signed documents and detailed designs and sketches of what seems to be a retarded building. I understand all of them; I can even get a guess of what Cartman might be planning for the show.

I catch my breath and begin to blink with the sound of Cartman entering back into the room. He notices my dumbstruck stare and smirks at me.

"Get it now?"

I slowly nod. He didn't expect anyone to understand the documents except for me. Son of a bitch…

"Let's get going now. Need to put the puzzles together for you dumbasses" He looks towards the others and they all glare back at him, not really intimidating because of the confusion lingering in their eyes.

Cartman jumps into the driver's seat; I manage to keep a straight face while imagining the car flip over from his weight. Butters makes himself comfortable in the passenger seat. Kenny and Craig sneak into the trunk, Kenny poking me before ducking down. I climb into the middle of the back seat, Tweek sitting next to me. I quickly regret this as Stan climbs through the other door, snuggling next to me. I hear Kenny snigger behind me, so I turn around and punch him from above. Nice way to cover up your blush Broflovski.

"Oh God! W-where are you taking us!" Tweek screeches as Cartman starts the car.

"Into the woods you Spaz" Tweek lets out another scream from his answer.

"Jesus Christ! Y-you're gonna k-Kill US! Then bury our bodies in the nrgh, forest! Argh!" I take Tweek's hand gently out of his hair and place it around his thermos. He takes a large gulp with a final twitch and goes back to his subtle shaking.

"Ngh… Thanks Kyle"

"You're welcome," I say half-heartedly.

In reverse to Tweek managing to cool down, I feel tenser than ever. With every bump of the car I can feel Stan's thigh dig into mine, burning the skin under my jeans.

My blush dies down when I suddenly feel a stream of hot breath brush on the back of my neck. My spine freezes and I feel my whole body shudder; I quickly turn around, my fists ready to punch Kenny in the face again, but I find myself face to face with a glaring Craig. I freeze, my nose nearly brushing against his pale one; I feel the temperature exchange among our faces.

"Y-Yeah?" The shake in my voice is clearly obvious.

"Nothing" He smirks and ducks back down beside Kenny, I do the same by sitting back nudging into Tweek so I avoid the touch from Stan as much as possible. I suddenly get the idea that that's a bad idea remembering Craig's existence behind me. Did he just glare at me because I got a simple 'Thank you' from Tweek? Dude, how possessive was he?

The car comes to a sudden stop, and I mean sudden. We all jump up an inch in the air, crushing our faces into some part of the car as we come back down, myself included.

"Cartman the Fuck?"

"We're here losers"

And with that sign we all burst out of the car for fresh air. Seven guys in a tiny car don't exactly smell like the botanical gardens. I didn't even realise that I was holding my breath, thanks to those two ravens.

"Oh wow…" To Butter's heart-taken voice we all calm our panting and look up, only to find our breaths taken again. _No_. That can't be Cartman's. But it has to be; it was exactly like it was in his papers he just showed us.

Not exactly the most beautiful piece of architecture I've ever seen, but it was still goddamn impressive. It was a circular building, similar to a lodge, based on wood the colour of handsome umber. The brown collaborated perfectly with the forest green of its surroundings. It just seemed so…rich, not a snobby kind of rich but kind of like… like one of Token's holiday house in the woods that was specially designed for a calm holiday, _uniting with the nature and away from society_ kind of a house. Gosh, that made no sense at all.

"Not really ma style but… it ain't bad is it?" We all nod subconsciously in agreement.

"Well, better show you guys inside, make yourselves familiar to it all." No one really listens to him. We all admire the exterior of the building while our legs automatically move towards the entrance, a simple red wooded door, accompanied by two black lanterns at its side.

The entrance leads into a short hallway that comes to a split formed by a sudden circular wall. We walk a few feet to the left and then welcomed into a wide-open kitchen and lounge. We all gasp, dumb struck by the unexpected modern interior coated, the walls bright white, reflecting the light coming through the breath-taking large window. I dash excitedly towards the window, not bothered to hide my excitement. I just adore large windows, and this one has one of the most beautiful views I have ever seen. Well most people would probably think I was dumb for thinking so because all you could see was mostly forest, but through the dark green trees I could slightly see the sparkle of a not so distant lake.

I hear sniggering and chuckling behind me and I instantly notice that my face is completely glued to the window. Blushing, I pull my face off the window, ew, and wipe my face marks off the clean surface. Kenny and Cartman's laughter increased as I turned to face them, my cheeks completely on fire from embarrassment and rage. I even manage myself to glare at Stan who was also chuckling, trying to restrain himself from my glance. I'm put off slightly from my rage though, to find that even Craig was sniggering at me, I bare my teeth with bitterness, Craig never sniggers.

"Let's move on shall we and let the small Jew jack off to the windows." Cartman says while pushing Tweek and Butter's back out the room.

"Shut the fuck up fatass" I scream at him but sit down beside the window and stare back out again, restraining myself from sticking to the glass.

It only seems about ten seconds before the guys come back, urging me to say goodbye to my long lost love. I scowl at them, placing one last glance towards the beautiful view and follow the guys out the main door.

"Well, what do you think?" Cartman says as we exit the house, back into the sparkling forest.

"Why do you care what we think?" Typical Craig: his monotone voice has the ability to make every word of his sound condescending and sarcastic. But Cartman doesn't seem to bulge with his voice for once and continues as though accepting his asshole attitude.

"Because you six are the ones who are gonna live here for 20 days."

"Yeah? What makes you think we will?" Craig challenges.

"Because _Craig_," He spits, "I will pay each of you 50,000 dollars each,"

_Yeah__. In exchange of torture and humiliation for 20 days?_ I mutter under my breath. And what proof is there that he won't unleash Jason at us in the middle of the night and make his very own 'Friday the 13th'? I open my mouth to announce my doubts, but Cartman interrupts me before I could spill a word by pushing some more papers into my nose.

"Aaand, I promise that I won't cause any injuries and would be responsible to all accidents that are unlikely to happen" He takes the papers out of my face and underlines a sentence with his finger that sets his promise in stone. "I _promise._" he states again, emphasising the words clearly, carving them into my memory.

"Briefly, all I'm asking of you guys is to live in this magnificent house for twenty days, maybe doing some games and activities, and I'll pay you 50,000. That's what? 2,500 dollars a day?" We all gulp at the amount.

"So what do you say?" He cocks his eyebrow up and looks at every one of us, holding out the papers that were digging into my face again.

Kenny's the first one grab a piece, a sign to his agreement towards the plan, clearly interested in the 50,000 but also showing pure amusement towards the plan. The second to grab a sheet is Butters, looking around in panic, desperate for an answer from his invisible parents before he does. The third to follow to my surprise was a trembling Tweek, who was grabbing onto the hem of my shirt for dear life before he made his choice. Stan lets out a slight sigh through his nose before he grabs one and makes his way towards the others, leaving me alone with an unamused Craig.

"Weeell?" Cartman waves the papers in our faces as if they were a bundle of cash, testing out temptation. His challenging smirk boils my blood and makes me automatically snatch a dancing sheet out of his hand and stomp my way towards the others. I see Craig raise an eyebrow at me in slight surprise as I park myself besides Stan and Tweek, who shrieks in relief at my presence. Yeah, I can understand Tweek's shrieks now. Surprisingly, Craig doesn't hesitate to grab the last piece from Cartman and sets himself behind Tweek and me.

Cartman smiles at us with satisfaction and excitement glimmering in his eyes. God, with all of us standing here like we're about to face a large challenge makes me feel like we're the fellowship of the ring of something. _So I guess I'm one of the hobbits? _I mentally punch myself in the guts.

We're handed a pen to sign what seems like a handmade contract right here and now. I read the paper at least twenty times from many different angles before I feel comfortable enough to sign it and hand it back to fatass. He goes through each one of our signed contracts carefully, I bet he looked at my signature twice as long as any others.

Once Cartman is satisfied with our contracts we all get back into the car. I'm the first to get in, in order to avoid ending up next to Stan again, which could have been one of my worst moves because I somehow end myself squeezed together in by the two ravens. While I feel the blazing heat from Stan's touch I also feel the ice-cold glare of Craig from my top left side. Yay. Pressure sandwich.

I don't know if I should say the way back was worse than the way here: while I could avoid my thoughts from Stan's heat it was in exchange with the pain of bruises forming from Craig's elbow digging into my left arm. Dude, this son of a bitch has serious problems with me.

I practically trip out of the car trying to get away from Craig's torture as quickly as possible. I'm caught by Stan's firm hands that stops me from banging my nose into the gravel. He gives me a concerned 'Are you okay?' as I rub my left arm and I manage to smile up at him and squeeze out a 'Yeah'. I feel my face burn as he smiles at me, happier with the fact that I looked at him for once rather than my actual response. I feel guilty as hell with the idea and my blush instantly fades, despite him still hanging on to my shoulders.

We're not welcomed into Cartman's house this time and he just says what he wants to say when he's sure everyone's out of the car. Tweek yelps as he stumbles out of the trunk with Kenny, who gracefully lands on his two feet, keeping his hands in the pockets of his orange parker.

When everyone is standing outside the car, facing Cartman, he clears his throat unnecessarily to get everyone's final attention.

"You guys have officially agreed to be part of my reality show," he says waving our contracts in the air. "And I'm planning to start it on Monday. You guys get ready for twenty days in the forest and meet me here in three days at 7pm. If anyone is more than two seconds late _I will kick him in the fucking nuts_!" He pants after his burst out before continuing on his last words. "I will explain the details on the day, you guys make sure you're ready for a twenty day holiday, well, kind of, and don't be late!''

With that, we're dismissed. I don't plan going to school since I'll be… late, but I don't even consider the idea of going back home before the time school is meant to finish.

I follow Tweek to Harbucks and grab a large iced-coffee for lunch, I'm not bothered getting anything proper to eat. Yeah I know why I'm short, it's because I hardly eat anything. Tweek invites me into his house but I politely decline; I decide I wanted to be alone for a couple of hours before I could go back home without suspicious questions from my mother.

There's just too much going around in my head now, I mean twenty days means twenty days living with Stan, maybe even a murder planning Craig (I shiver at the thought), not to mention the fact that I'm helping Cartman who bribed me with money (he mostly triggered my rage really).

I'm sitting by Stark's pond, engaging myself into the cool breeze brushing through the water surface. If anyone sees me now they'll think I'm a loner emo or something.

I suddenly jolt up with the vibration of my phone; I press the call button and press it against my ear without looking at whom it was by.

"Hello?"

"Hey Kyle"

My heart jumps at the transparent voice flowing from the speaker directly into my ear. "Hey Stan, what's up?" I manage to say through the thumping of my own pulse. I hear him take in a short breath before answering my question.

"Nothing much. I was just wondering if you wanted to come to my house now. I'm still confused about the whole thing and only you seem to be the only one who clearly understands the whole thing. Besides, I bet you can't even go home before school officially ends" He talks a little fast, showing that he was a little nervous about inviting me. No wonder, he hasn't called me in over a year let alone invite me to his house. But whatever he's feeling right now I bet I'm feeling ten times worse.

"S-sure" My heart races and I feel my whole body shake from too much tension. Despite my ridged answer I literally feel his smile from my phone when I finish my word.

"Awesome! Come over now" He hangs up to that without hesitation, as if scared to hear me change my mind. But magically and surprisingly, with his relieved and cheerful response my whole body relaxes, and I let out a long breath staring at my phone.

I instantly make my way towards his house; jogging lightly through the heat, sweat forms under my long sleeves.

I barely knock before his front door swings open and I'm welcomed in by a smiling Stan. I melt under his joyful gaze when a slight wonder crosses my min. _Has he been waiting for me behind the door the whole time? _Following him upstairs into his room I gently suck in the air of his house. Man, I haven't been here in so long, and I used to come here every day.

Stan sits comfortably on his bed and I place myself on the hard flor, still not too comfortable enough to sit on the bed with him. I remember his call and open my mouth before any awkward silence gets its chance to grab a hold onto us.

"You said that you wanted to know more about Cartman's plan, but honestly, even I hardly get it." I say with a slight apologetic tone in my voice, but Stan doesn't change his cheerful expression and lets out a slight chuckle.

"Nah, don't worry I don't really care. Fatass said that he'll explain the details later anyway" Stan twitches slightly with his words; I guess he's wondering if it was the right thing to say. But I can't stop but to smile at him, he smiles back with a sigh of relief. I finally notice how much I miss this guy and our friendship. Strange how even if we have hardly talked for nearly two years, it seems as though our friendship break never happened.

We talked for a couple of hours after that, me sitting on the floor and him sitting on the bed. He asked me multiple times if I didn't want to sit on the bed with him, but I said I didn't, trying not to sound too panicked while hiding my blush.

My stomach flips at the sound of my mobile and I groan to see that I got a message from Ike, accusing me for not being at school today and that I had to come home before he told me on our mom. How the little fucker found out I will never know.

Stan walks me to the door, acting as if I've forgotten the way out over the years. It's then when I notice myself not punching him jokingly, and when I see the reminiscence in his eyes as he smiles at me that I fully realise that we haven't been true friends for two years. My insides drop again from guilt and I droop heavily on my way home, my mind racing though a million thoughts. But with every step towards my house, one thought dissolves, clearing my mind and by the time I reach my doorstep I end up with a conclusion.

I still wanna be with Stan. Even if we can't be best friends like we used to be, I don't care. I just wanna be near him. And the opportunity fatass gave me with his plans is a great chance for me. The twenty days with Stan he gave me, I will use it. I will become friends with him again, no matter what it takes. I will do what Cartman tells me to do, and I will obey his rules… maybe.

I grip onto the door handle of my front door firmly with strange determination that was flowing through me

_During those twenty days I will get rid of my unnatural feelings towards Stan. And I swear to every inch on my body that I will recover our friendship again. _

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><p><strong>A.N- Thanks for reading. Please review if you want to spark my enthusiasm into writing more. <strong>_  
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	2. Chapter 2

**A.N- Oh my god thank you so much for the reviews, they truly made my day and definitely help me write more. I was hoping to put a faster update but formals, visitors, looking over translations and watching Supernatural does not help. Anyway, hope you enjoy chapter two!  
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><p>Three days passed like a flash before my eyes. I was completely preoccupied with trying to persuade my parents (especially my mom) into letting me go to the woods for twenty days to do a reality show. I was able to convince them in the end. I think it was because I avoided some certain facts like: I was going to be in a reality show that was organised by Eric Bastardchild Cartman. So to my parents, I'm just going on a twenty day holiday with six friends with only one of them being a bad influence (Craig Tucker). Ike, however, doesn't seem to believe my words.<p>

He's leaning against my bedroom door with his arms crossed, his body swinging back and forth with the door, staring down at me as I pack my suitcase.

"Kyle, you know that I know that this isn't just a simple holiday right?' He says over the creaking sound of the door, swaying with his body weight.

"Hey, I'm not lying about any of it!" I stop throwing clothes into my suitcase, looking up at him defensively.

"Yeah, but you're avoiding the ultimate truth." He cocks his eyebrow up, testing me. When I don't say anything, he sighs and gets off the door.

"I need to show you something" He says, while walking to my desk. He flings open my laptop and turns it on, hardly waiting for it to load before he types in what seems to be my password. (Son of a bitch, he knows my password!) Once he enters in a few keys and seems satisfied with what he finds, he hands me the laptop silently.

The screen shows a nicely designed website, one I've never seen before. My thoughts come to a suspicious halt when my eyes land on the large headline.

_What happens when six teenagers are forced to live together for twenty days?_

Under the headline is a photograph of the circular house I was meant to be at in a few hours. I grunt, remembering Cartman mentioning something about making a website for his reality show. My eyes move around the homepage, one specific button catches my attention and I place the mouse on it. The button is linked to a page that introduces all six of us (me, Stan, Tweek, Craig, Kenny and Butters), with a short definition and a photograph. I feel my blood boil from rage and embarrassment when I read through my own profile.

_Kyle Broflovski. He may seem small and cute, but don't push his buttons or you'll __find yourself being thrown through a brick wall._

"That fucking fatass!" I yell out, forgetting Ike's existence beside me.

"Yeah, I've never actually seen you throw someone through a brick wall."

I don't know if he's comforting me or mocking me, but I decide to ignore him and continue reading. I accidentally blow out a small laughter when I read Craig's description.

_Craig Tucker. Brace yourselves ladies, for this guy may be smoking hot but he's __nothing but a cold-hearted mannequin._

My short amusement is interrupted by an unnatural cough from a sniggering Ike. He looks at me with a confident smile, as if he has grabbed hold onto one of my dark secrets.

"How about this," He begins "if you buy me tickets to the next ice hockey championship then I _won't_ tell mom and dad the truth" He looks at me with a challenging gaze, I can tell that he's more interested in my reaction than my response. What ever happened to my caring and loving little brother?

"Or how about this," I challenge him back. "I won't tell mom or dad that you kissed your buddy if you don't tell them about this" His face immediately pales at my words, clearly not the reaction he was expecting.

"_He_ kissed me!" he defends.

"Doesn't change the fact you guys kissed"

"He was drunk!"

"From too much coke?"

"You know how it makes him crazy!"

"Yeah yeah, what was his name again? F-"

Ike yells weakly from embarrassment and lunges on top of me. I can't help but laugh at his panicked expression even when he's pinning me to the ground, clenching my wrists.

"Sorry Ike, I know it was only an accident." My laughter slowly dies down in to a slight chuckle. Ike's still embarrassed, his face turning from pale to a bright scarlet. He was straddling me, having complete control, yet his twelve year old self was completely vulnerable. There's my little Canadian brother right there. After his blush cools down he slowly takes his hands off my wrists and moves them to the collar of my shirt, whispering into my ear.

"Please don't get molested while you're there"

I feel my face burn and he jumps off of me before I get the honour to push him off myself. He laughs mischievously and runs out the room and I slam the door behind him. God! Kids these days…

I turn around; my boiling blood cools and my raging feeling suddenly drops when I face my unpacked luggage.

I rush down the stairs as quickly as possible, careful not to trip down the steps with the suitcase that weighs nearly half my own weight. I managed to squish in a full twenty days worth of long sleeves and jeans into the one suitcase; it was a fucking pain in the ass.

My parents look at me worryingly after I heave the forty-five pound suitcase off the last step, rolling it to the front door. I'm pretty worried myself about the suitcase; I wonder if I'll be able to roll this thing all the way to Cartman's if I'm already out of breath.

As I begin to say my farewells my mom caresses me into her arms as if it was the end of the world and my dad lightly hugs me after helping my suitcase down the doorstep. Ike smiles and waves his hand at me while the door shuts. I see him mouth "_I will be watching you_" before it completely closes on him. I finally get the idea that many people _will_ be watching me for the next twenty days.

I drag my suitcase down the road desperately; my breath getting heavier with every step. Damn my long fucking sleeves, the main cause of all my heat and sweat. The time? 18:45. Might just be able to make it if only I didn't have this damn suitcase.

I can feel my legs trembling, getting more and more unstable. I finally lose my balance under the weight of my bag and I close my eyes, ready to fall flat onto the ground, only, I don't. The weight from my hand suddenly fades and I don't feel the pain that was meant to shoot through me when I hit the ground. After I am steadied onto my two feet I feel a masculine arm leave my waist. I sigh deeply with relief and I quickly remember that I need to thank the person who helped me, that is until I hear a monotone voice knot my intestines together.

"You're so hopeless."

I spin around and find Craig Tucker, standing lazily and unlike me, with hardly any luggage.

"…Thanks…" I squeeze the words through my gritted teeth. It's bitter but it's all I can manage after an insult. I gesture my hand out for him to give me back my suitcase. He cocks his eyebrow up at my hand, looking down at me as if I was retarded and walks past me, dragging my suitcase along with him.

"You're too fucking slow." He says and I feel something heavy bash into my face. It falls into my hand and I notice that it's a bag. I stare at it, confused for a second then understanding that it belonged to Craig.

"Come on. You don't want to turn into a _complete_ girl after Cartman kicks you in the balls when you're late, do you?" He doesn't stop to look back as he talks to me. I swing his bag angrily around my back, growling slightly while I jog after him.

We arrive at 7pm just, thanks to Craig. I had to run most of the way to keep up with the pace of his long legs. When we arrive, I find that everyone was already there; Cartman is tapping his feet frustratingly at us, but everyone else doesn't seem to mind.

"And I thought _you_ were the one with the accurate time, Jew" Cartman says with his arms crossed. Slightly offended, I open my mouth to defend myself but I am stopped when a sudden object jumps into my face. It takes me a second before I notice it being a video camera.

"And how do you feel about next twenty days Kyle? Anxious? Excited?"

I hear a nasally voice come from behind the equipment and I stretch my head up, finding a slightly eager looking brunette.

"What the hell are you doing Clyde?" I say, ignoring the camera. Clyde gives a loud frustrated sigh and rolls his eyes dramatically.

"Dude, don't talk to me, talk to the camera!"

"Oh yeah right, sorry"

He steadies the camera lens back at me and I stare into it.

"What the hell are you doing Clyde." I start again, more like a statement this time than a question.

"Cartman's paying me 200 bucks for assisting him today"

I lift my eyebrow up with a 'really?' expression on my face, but not really impressed.

Cartman's screeches come echoing into our ears the second his name is mentioned

"Goddamn it Clyde! I'm not paying you to have general conversations with a Jew!"

"Okay, okay!" Clyde says with the slightest panic hiding in his voice. He quickly continues his previous question I ignored.

"So, how do you feel?"

"Anxious and Excited." I repeat his previous words without enthusiasm.

_It's true though. _

My eyes wonder subconsciously to where Stan was standing. My stomach flips as I see him laugh lightly at another one of Kenny's perverted jokes.

_I am anxious to whether__ I will be able to overcome this tangling feeling inside of me and rebuild my relationship with Stan, but on the other hand, I am excited as hell to use the chance that has been set before me. _

I feel a sharp pain shoot through the tip of my feet and I jump up with a slight shriek. I look down and find my forty-five pound suitcase lying stiffly across my shoes. Holding one of my feet, I shoot up a glare to look at who dropped the suitcase on me. Craig Tucker was standing unemotionally with his hand out, gesturing as if he had just dropped something heavy.

"You forgot your bag" he says with his usual monotone voice. I feel anger rise up my chest, fighting to attack at the asshole, but I push it down and grab the suitcase off my foot aggressively. I hear a short snort of satisfaction from Craig as I lift the bag.

"How about a 'thank you'?"

Heat rises to my face with rage and shame towards myself. I can't believe I let this douche bag help me! I grind my teeth together and walk away from him, dragging my suitcase with me towards a white mini-bus I'm guessing Cartman hired.

I try to fight my suitcase into the trunk of the mini-bus with raging frustration, but I pause instantly when I hear a shaky voice.

"H-hi Kyle!" with his voice, my rage seems to automatically cool down and I swing around to greet the twitching blond.

"Hey Tweek" I smile cheerfully at him; somehow he has the power to ease my rage. He smiles shakily back, a sign of his relief.

"I'm! – gha, so glad you made it! I thought you bailed 'cause… Do you need help with that?" He cuts his sentence short and gestures towards my suitcase with a worried expression.

"Yeah thanks!" I suddenly remember the weight of the suitcase digging into my arms, flinching slightly from the realisation of the weight. Tweek slightly shrieks and jumps toward the suitcase as if it was going to crush down on me any second. I know he didn't mean any harm but I feel my man pride slightly torn from his panic towards my weakness.

I pat Tweek's shoulder with appreciation after we manage to squish my bag into the trunk and we make our way to the door of the bus where everyone was squeezing in one by one.

As I climb into the bus, I get an uncomfortable feeling of something staring at me and I swing back, staring down at what was looking up at me. Heat makes it's way to my cheeks again and I shout at the brunette, panicked from embarrassment.

"Clyde, what the fuck?"

"Nothing. Bebe just told me to get an extra nice view of your hot ass." He barely shows any shame towards his own statement and keeps the camera directed at my butt. I hear a typical whistle come from the back of bus and I glare at the orange hooded pervert who caused the humiliating sound.

"Urgh!" I spit and tumble my way into the bus, avoiding the gaze of the lens follow me where I go. All the single seats are taken, leaving me with the choice of sitting next to either Craig or Stan. Naturally, I stump past the asshole and hesitantly, place myself beside the other kind, welcoming raven.

"Hey Kyle" He says with a smile, taking out his earphones. It's those small gestures that reminds me how kind he really is; I don't think he ever has his earphones in when I'm (or if I'm ever) with him.

"Hi Stan" My greeting is nearly cut off by the sound of engines starting and the bus jolts to life, startling me a little. A light chuckle comes from beside me and I realise that I might have overreacted a little with the sudden movement of the bus. I relax deeply into my seat, hiding my embarrassed flush with a pout, but I automatically jolt back up again from the sound of roaring laughter.

"Dude, Kyle, you gotta read this" Kenny leans in towards me over the aisle from his single seat, handing me his phone.

The screen is set on a familiar website, Cartman's reality show website. I scroll down the touch screen, reading people's comments half-heartedly.

"Son of a bitch…" As I scroll down further I feel the temperature of my blood rise, rage and embarrassment flowing through me. My reaction seems to be just too obvious and I hear Kenny's laughter harden and worry cross over Stan's expression. He leans in towards me, trying to get a glimpse of what I was reading but I swing my arms up, not wanting him to see.

"No! Don't look…" I try to sound strong but my voice only comes out with an embarrassing and desperate tone. Stan looks at me blankly for a second, but his expression suddenly changes into a slight mischievous smile and he reaches for the phone in my hands. I quickly dodge his grip, half standing in my chair. Hands grab for the phone again and I jolt away again, and again, and again.

"Come on Kyle! It can't be that bad" He laughs out.

"Uh-uh, no way dude!" I can't hide my own laughter. I cackle playfully underneath him, stretching my hands over the aisle, Stan's masculine chest leaning over me, his arms extending towards the small device locked in my hands.

"Kyle has a sexy ass" I hear a monotone voice come from above and Stan and I freeze in our spots dumb-struck. I immediately sit up and Stan slides off of me. I check my small hands for the device that I was protecting for dear life a second ago and I notice that it's gone.

"What, Kyle's a dude? No way someone like that can't be a guy" My glance shoots up to the seat in front of me and I spot Craig leaning over his chair with Kenny's phone in his hands.

"True that. Rofl, poor dude. I won't mind getting a piece of that. I just wanna use his cute butt cheeks for a pillow for all eternity."

I yell embarrassingly and lunge towards the phone in the raven's hand. Surprisingly, he lets me grab it without hesitation, his face still emotionless. I shut the phone off with slight panic and throw it at Kenny who seems amused and satisfied with the short drama. I glare up at Craig after I know that the phone is in, what I hope is safe hands. However, Craig just ignores my death-glare and looks up towards the front of the bus.

"I'm guessing 'sexychik_bb' is Stevens?"

"Yup, that'll be her" Clyde calls back from the passenger seat, his camera still fixed on us six teenagers.

Letting out an exhausted sigh I sink back into my seat; it hasn't even been an hour yet and I'm already worn out by these douchebags.

"Dude, 'you okay?" Stan asks, guilt and concern shown in his voice. I try to make up a smile, but it comes out crooked with irritation, exhaustion and discomfort. But deep down I know I'm having fun; acting like primary school kids, it's kinda fun… I guess.

The rest of the journey seemed to pass in calmness. Stan and I tried to make some general conversations but they all seemed to end in an awkward silence. In the end I just decided to give up and rest, indulge myself in the rough ride through the woods. I thought that talking to Stan would be much easier after our slight bonding at his house a few days ago, but my nerves towards my situation began to overcome me. I suddenly get the feeling that recovering our relationship won't be as easy as I thought it would be a few minutes ago.

I stare out the window across the aisle and maybe it's because I wasn't squished into a sandwich, but I noticed some features during the ride that I didn't notice last time. After about half an hour of dodging trees we come to a high fence, guarding what seems to be nothing but some more woods. A small gate opens just enough for the bus to slide through and I instantly understand that the fence marks Cartman's land; making sure nothing can get in, or so nothing can get out. I slightly shiver at the thought.

After we enter the gates I begin to spot some cameras hiding in the trees. They don't seem to be on yet, but it will be in only a matter of time before they do.

The car comes to a sudden jolt, a sign that we have arrived at our destination. Cartman orders everyone to get out and Clyde slides our door open, the camera lens still staring at us without showing any weariness. I guess you become immune to it after a while. I decide to ignore its existence, tired of glaring and growling at it.

My jarred feelings of frustration seem to flow away the second I step out of the car. The cool, fresh night breeze blows around me, giving me clean delicious air. I inhale deeply and look up to find the circular house now slightly lit up in the darkness. The two black lanterns beside the entrance lights up the red door, ready to welcome in any person warmly. It's kind of cute if you look at it, the kind of atmosphere you would find in a fairytale… maybe not, but it seems cosy. I just hope it's not the type of house that seduces you inside and then eats you up, leaving nothing but bones. I shouldn't tell Tweek that.

I walk towards the bus trunk, ready for some more heavy lifting, but a big fat figure blocks my way.

"What do you think you're doing Kyle?" Cartman says, cocking up his eyebrow challengingly with a smug on his face.

"I'm getting my bag, what does it look like?"

"Oh, you won't be needing those Kyle"

"What!" I yell out with slight disbelief towards his statement.

"I have twenty days worth of clothes in there! You want to see me naked for twenty days fatso!""

"No one wants to see _you_ naked you filthy Jew… Shut up Kenny!"

We both glare in the direction of where the orange figure was passing by. Kenny raises his arms in defence in a typical '_I didn't say anything!'_' way. We ignore his protests and glue our angry eyes back at each other, Cartman resuming our argument.

"I meant that I have everything ready for you guys and you won't need anything"

"What? So you tell us to get ready for twenty days and _now_ you say we don't even need our luggage? So we went through all the trouble of packing for nothing?"

"Not for nothing! Watching your efforts being wasted Kyle, is highly amusing" I growl at him in disgust.

"And apparently you're the only one who got obsessed with packing!" He shoots out his gross laughter and I look into the trunk nervously. And he's right. Apparently I'm the only one with such a big suitcase.

I groan in frustration, stumping my way towards the house, digging my shoes aggressively into the dirt as I go.

"Well hurry up and open the fucking door fatass!" I yell out when I reach the locked door surrounded by the others. He jogs unpleasantly, shouting out his usual phrase. Was it something about not calling him fat?

When he finally opens the door he welcomes us inside with a slight pant.

"Welcome- to your new home."

As if the house understood his words the lights in every room suddenly spring to life and we enter into what _is_ going to be our home for the next twenty days.

Despite it being our second time in the house, we all gasp at the sight. Although still open and simple, when we enter the lounge and kitchen we find new furniture and electronic appliances. There is a wide plasma stuck to the white wall, surrounded by speakers that are placed nicely in the corners of the ceiling. As I look up I also notice video cameras stuck in various spots in the room, I think that they are also some microphones hidden as well.

My senses come back when I hear a shriek of excitement and I spin around. Tweek was rushing into the exposed kitchen, examining and stroking what seemed to be a large coffee machine. The tenseness in my shoulders drops with a sigh of relief, happy that Tweek has found his device of passion.

There was a moment in my life when I was anxious of his coffee addiction. It used to be his life source and that much coffee just wasn't right for a kid. Maybe not as bad as Christophe's cigarettes, but still not healthy. I wasn't great friends with him back then but I remember that his addiction eased a little when he began some kind of treatment. I heard that doctors finally had to convince his parents that he should ease off the coffee. I think it kinda worked in the end, but only a little. He still relies on the drink terribly, but he learnt to enjoy it as a beverage. He also sleeps a bit now and developed an appetite; I think that's why he's taller than me.

"Good thing fatass had the decency to provide a coffee machine huh?" I walk up to him with a smile.

"Gah! Y-yeah! It's amazing" He says excitingly. But his shoulders suddenly drop back into a slight shake, as if realising something horrible.

"If only I ngh, had my coffee beans…"

"No need to worry there Tweek" Speak of the devil, Cartman comes towards us, his arms proudly crossed in his chest.

"But first, let's eat"

At first I'm confused with his statement, but I then look at my watch and see that I haven't eaten for over nine hours. I thought I was kinda hungry.

Tweek and I follow him to the large kitchen table to find that it has been decorated with something that I swear to god wasn't there before: a humongous, yet gorgeous meal. It seemed as though it appeared out of nowhere, like in Harry Potter.

I excitedly jump down into an open seat beside Butters and Kenny, holding in the excitement.

"Well holy shit dude…" Kenny's eyes are about to drop out of his sockets, but I have to agree with his astonishment. Although this isn't the first time so much food was placed in front of me, the fact that all this was all provided by Cartman was simply unbelievable. As we all gape at the food I feel Cartman's satisfied gaze swift upon all of us.

"Well, I see that you are all about choke on your saliva so… Dig in!" His hands clap loudly as if giving everyone the right to eat, and with that sign, everyone dives in. I know Cartman's having the time of his life, watching everyone follow his actions. But I seriously couldn't care less. I don't exactly have the passion for eating but I practically lay my hands on every single dish available, except for the ones I know I can't eat. I regret the actions after about five minutes though. My insides are about to rip open but the huge mountain of food on my plait doesn't seem to shrink.

"Dude, you eating that?" Kenny mumbles with his mouth filled with, god knows what. I grunt in a disgusted approval and he steals away what has become to me the mountain of doom. A cleanly scraped plait is returned to me after a few minutes and I doubt my eyes. Does being poor expand your stomach's capacity or something? I look around at the other guys and notice that I'm the only one who had stopped eating.

It took me a while waiting for the sound of cluttering forks and aggressive chewing to die down. Cartman was one of the last to finish, typical fatass. Once all the plaits were scraped clean and everyone was sighing with fulfilment, Cartman cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. He's been doing that a lot lately; maybe he thinks it's a sign of authority or something pathetic like that.

"Now that you're full gentlemen, I would like to explain to you the details for the next twenty days. But first, let's get comfortable. "

We're lead into the lounge, given the permission to seat on the beautiful couch as Cartman sits in his own comfy chair. I decide to sit on the ground though, just because I am sick with his authoritative smile. Craig sits beside me on the floor; apparently I'm not the only one fed up with accepting Cartman's offers. My heart jumps slightly when Stan sits right behind me on the couch. I immediately get the urge to lean back into his shins, but I fight it down with embarrassment towards the idea and glare up at Cartman to keep my mind off Stan's presence.

"I do believe you all just had one of the best dinners you ever had," He begins with his stupid business voice, "but I'm afraid you won't be having five star meals all the time. You see, it will be only you six living in this house which means chores such as cleaning, washing and cooking" he counts them off with his fingers, "would all be divided equally and frequently among you. And this is how we'll choose the roles. Each other day you will all be doing some sort of game or activity ordered by me. They will be in groups, individuals or pairs and the person or people who win will achieve points. Those points will be crucial to your twenty days here. Well, there will be only three of you who will actually stay here for the full twenty days." With his sudden statement I feel a wave of confusion rush through the six of us.

"What do you mean we all won't be here for twenty days!" I'm the first one to voice out everyone's concern.

"God, I was getting there Jew! It means that with time, three of you will be eliminated one by one. You all will be here for at least nine days; the first elimination will happen on the tenth day then every four days after that until there are only three of you left."

My stomach shivers slightly from sudden stress. So when he meant _reality show_ he also meant all the elimination crap as well? So much for originality.

"Who will be eliminated will be chosen by votes from people who access my website and myself; but what all you guys need to remember is that the points that you achieve will also be counted. The more points you get, the more chance and choice you would get, for example: as I said before your jobs around the house will be chosen by your points. And one other little thing for fun: the person who has the most points every four days, will be able to order the person with the least points to do, whatever. Apart from the games, I will also be giving random points to people. However, you guys will not be informed with how many points you have. The only thing told will be the people with the highest points and the lowest"

"Why would we won't to stay in? What if we just do shit and then get eliminated, leaving early with 50,000 as you promised." Craig's lazy voice makes Cartman shoot a glare at him, but then the fatass suddenly smirks.

"Because _Craig_, the person who stays in the house for twenty days and wins the final vote will walk out with an extra _One. Million. Dollar_s."

"What!" As it was only me, Kenny and Tweek who shouted, I knew well enough that the other three were also as equally shocked by Cartman's statement as we were, judging by their shocked faces. Even Craig had his mouth half open in surprise.

"You heard me, and it's true. This show is made for entertainment, and what is more entertaining than competition?"

Cartman's fat hands are smacked together, bringing us back to our complete senses.

"I'm sure you guys are now aching to know more, but you guys would need some rest before tomorrow." I check my watch and my eyes shoot open wide. It's already well past midnight.

"As most of you know, there are three bedrooms and six of you. That means that you would be sharing a room with a partner. You will have a different partner ever night for the first five nights, after that, I will be choosing pairs according to your preferences." The sides of his mouth jerk up as if saying _'see how generous I am?' _

"Today your partners will be chosen randomly. Shorties come up!" Butters immediately stands up and marches towards Cartman. Tweek twitches and looks around nervously then follows suit. Cartman nods at them, then moves his challenging gaze towards me. "That's you too Shrimpy"

"Don't call me Shrimpy Cartman!" I yell out automatically. But my body moves towards him stiffly, my heavy feet dragging along behind me. The fatass seems happy once I stand beside Tweek with my arms crossed, clearly unsatisfied with the situation.

Cartman brings out what seems like a top hat. (_Why_ would you have a top hat?) And he moves it towards Butters, showing the insides to him. He orders at the blond impatiently.

"Pick a strip and _don't_ look at what it says." Butters hesitantly pulls out of the hat what seems to be a strip of paper and Cartman quickly orders Tweek to do the same by rustling the inside of the hat at him. After Tweek pulled one out with a shriek Cartman hands the hat towards me. Not much of a choice. Only one strip left. I roughly pull it out, not moving my glare away from Cartman as I do.

"Look at it." He says quietly. I look at his calm eyes in confusion and open the paper up with clumsy fingers. As I read the name on the paper I hear my pulse begin to pump deeply in my ears. I try to force my cheeks to cool but I can't help but keep my face down, avoiding Cartman's mocking stare.

"Read it out loud. So everyone can hear"

I wondered for a second if he knew my inner feelings. The feelings I kept from everyone except Kenny. But there was no way he could have known.

I don't even know why I suddenly feel uncomfortable with the name; I mean this is what I was looking forward to, right? Maybe it's because I wasn't expecting it. It was just too sudden."

I pronounce the name quietly, avoiding the gaze of who now is my partner for the night.

"Stan"

My eyes hesitantly shift towards where Stan's sitting. He looks somewhat surprised, but then smiles warmly when he noticed my gaze. I feel my insides instantly warm up with relaxation and I manage to give a natural smile back.

The environment seems to dissolve around us until I hear Butters' anxious voice bring me back to reality.

"W-well I've got Kenny" He says, waving his strip of paper. That means…

I swing my head and dart my eyes on Craig Tucker. Although he's still playing his asshole character and keeping a poker face, I know that he's happy, and I immediately feel good for him. Because he's with Tweek for tonight, the boy (I believe) that he likes.

A sharp noise clicks in the air and we all turn around and face Cartman again, his fingers in the air gesturing that he just snapped his fingers together. God he's such a poser. But with that noise Clyde enters the room rolling a trolley full of large boxes, six boxes in total, one for each of us I guess. He places the boxes next to Cartman and begins handing them to the each of us.

"Those boxes are filled with the clothes you'll be wearing for the next twenty days. You won't be allowed to wear any of your own clothes here." Cartman explains to us. I look down at the box Clyde handed over to me. There's a large tag on it with the simple letters 'Jew' spelled out and the urge to throw the box on the floor flares inside me.

"And with that gentlemen, I wish you good luck, and a good night. I recommend you to get up early tomorrow if you want an early meal." He finishes with a small bow, trying to keep his perfect host act until the end.

…Huh? Wait, with just that he's leaving? I still have a billion questions I need answering.

"Wait a sec fatass!" I shout at him and he swings his fat body around with frustration.

"Kyle, don't you fucking call me fat! I am completely tired and not in the fucking mood. If you want to ask me anything," He pauses and points towards a specific area on the ceiling. "I will be watching you. _All. The. Time_."

I move my gaze to where he was pointing and I find that a video camera was focusing in on me. And it's not the only one. As I look around various parts of the ceiling I find that there are multiple cameras, clearly showing that there are no parts in the house that is free from his watch. By the time I look back Cartman is gone and I shiver slightly, suddenly nervous with the reality that I will be under his watch twenty four seven.

A hand suddenly grips my shoulder and I jolt up, twirling around surprised from the sudden touch.

"Wow. Hey dude"

"Oh, hi Stan"

He looks startled from my over-dramatic response and yet another awkward silence begins to come between us. Oh, not this time you won't.

"Um…" As I open my mouth to try and avoid the silence Stan does as well, his slightly deeper voice clashing with mine. I can't help my embarrassed blush creep to my face and I duck my face down, waiting for him to speak first.

"Yeah… The others already went to their rooms, so, do you want to go?" He says, pointing his thumb towards the corridor.

"Oh… Oh yeah right!" I feel my blush deepen as I remember that I'm sharing a room with him tonight.

"Yeah, I'm so tired!" I manage out a fake yawn, but he seems satisfied with my response and smiles back at me, bringing two boxes to his chest. I notice that one of the boxes is mine and I feel a slight panic grow within me.

"I'll carry mine!" I protest, trying to grab my box off of him. But he swings out of my reach elegantly, chuckling slightly.

"Dude, it's fine. You turn off the lights."

I moan in a tone of regret but do as I'm told. Rushing behind him into what is our room for the night. It was much larger than I imagined. There were two double-beds placed in the corners, two small closets and a large desk placed in front of the large window. I beam at the glass that's bringing in the glittering light of the moon and countless stars. The natural light instantly fades when I turn the light switches on, while Stan places our boxes onto the ground.

"Thanks" I say, more apologetically than gratefully.

"Don't mention it." He looks up at me, his smile wider than before, making my insides clench together again. Urgh. I hope I'll be able to get used to his smiles.

"We should get changed, it's already past 2am" He says, flinging his shirt off and beginning to dig through his box of clothes. My eyes automatically look away, embarrassment confusing my mind with what I should do; I choose to get changed as well.

I'm so tempted to ask him to look away while I change but I hold in the favour, not wanting to sound like a self-conscious pussy. I grab the first thing that my hands find in the box and fly out of my clothes into what seems like short-shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. I hug my exposed arms and dive into the bed, hiding underneath the blankets. Stan glances at me, looking surprised at my energetic dive, but then chuckles again slightly, while I twist and turn relaxingly on the soft mattress.

"You sure seem pretty out of it Kyle" He says after a while, sitting on his own bed, looking down at me with a warm gaze. I try to lift myself up, sit like him and face him, talk to him, but I fail and my body sinks deeper into the mattress.

"I'm not tired!" I try to convince him and my body that, but my clumsy voice says otherwise. My eyelids begin to droop on top of my dry eyes, trying to drag me into a deep sleep. I groan and swing them open. I don't want to sleep yet! I need to use this opportunity with Stan to talk with him. Make some friendly conversation. Become used to his presence. But I can't resist. My eyelids shut slowly, seducing me into a heavy darkness, drowning me into a deep sleep.

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><p><strong>A.N- Yeah, sorry nothing really happened that chapter, I had too much fun teasing Kyle:) If you have an idea where this story is heading, well done! Please review for a faster update! btw what genre do you think this is?<br>**


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N-Thanks for reading/reviewing! They really help me write. Hope you enjoy!  
><strong>

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><p>"Wake up Kyle."<p>

Warm hands tag gently around my shoulders as a kind voice whispers into me. I groan and brake free from the hands, rolling onto my side. I notice that I'm asleep, and I'm not planning to wake up. The pesky hands follow me, grabbing hold onto my shoulders again, more firmly this time.

"You need to get up Kyle" The gentle voice says again. I like the mild tone but I don't appreciate what it's asking me to do.

"Piss off Ike…"

The words come out more like a murmur as I duck deeper into the bed covers. He seems to stop, thinking of what to do next. I use his thinking time to relax and fall into yet another sleep.

The next second I feel a hot sensation run through my waist and numbing shivers run down my legs. I clench the sides aggressively with my arms, my feet rocketing up dramatically into the air, protesting against the agonising tickling that's dominating my senses.

"Fuck… Stop it Ike!" I gasp out through the gaps of my laughter. But the bastard keeps on tickling me, chuckling as I twitch desperately under his touch.

Squeezing out all my courage I let my protecting hands off my side and wave my arms around searching for the tickling hands. Lady luck smiles upon me, for I succeed in grabbing hold onto two wrists that were ravishing my sides. I quickly pull the weight down onto the bed and straddle on top of the figure, still laughing. But I instantly notice the unfamiliarity of the body I was straddling on. The stomach was hard and masculine, the hips wide and bony, and I couldn't fit my shot fingers around the figure's wrists.

I open my eyes slowly, expecting to see my twelve year-old brother, but my eyes widen when I find that I'm pinning down a completely different raven.

I let out a short yell, jumping away from Stan and falling off the bed, banging my head against the floor. The heat in my cheeks is blazing and I try to identify what the hell I was just doing, but my mind just simply couldn't function. Gibberish began blurting out of my mouth, probably trying to apologise or give an explanation to Stan.

Stan doesn't seem to notice me going nuts. He simply gets up, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand, avoiding my gaze. After a few seconds of sighing into his palm he looks up at me and I instantly shut my mouth.

"Morning Kyle" He manages to say to me with a smile.

"Uh… Morning?" I'm a little confused with his attitude, but I guess it's good he doesn't feel uncomfortable with what just happened.

"You should get changed. Remember how Cartman said that we had to wake up early in order to eat early?"

I look down at what I was wearing and automatically hug my arms in embarrassment. Dude, I forgot I was wearing short sleeves and short-shorts. I rush to the box of clothes Cartman gave me and dig through it, looking for something that I would cover up my stupid arms.

"Shit, that fucking fatass didn't put any long sleeves in…" I matter as I dig deeper into the box, becoming more desperate by the second.

"Do you wanna borrow mine?" I look up at Stan, who's holding a plain white, long sleeved shirt. "Cartman put one in my box"

I immediately understand that Cartman didn't put one into my box because he knew my stupid complex. Well, he better. He's practically the one who caused it.

Looking up at the shirt in his hands my mind debates whether to take the shirt, or to take the shirt. I'm so pathetic.

"Thanks"

He smiles at me and throws his shirt, the fabric landing gracefully into my hands. I smile at him as widely as I can before I turn around and pull my short sleeved shirt off.

After I'm changed I stand up and look down, examining my clothes.

"Look Stan," I twirl around on my heels to face him. "While the sleeves of your shirt go way past my fingers," they curl around my fingers as I tug them down, "my shorts barely go past my butt." I grab the hem of my shorts, flapping them, showing how ridiculously short they are. When I look up, waiting for Stan's reaction (probably something like my stupid laugh), he suddenly shifts his head away, as if hiding his face from me. For a second I thought I saw a tinge or red on his cheeks and I look back down at my legs worryingly, searching for what may have caused his blush.

_Did I just do something embarrassingly stupid? _

Stan clears his throat and faces back towards me, his eyes still looking away "We should go to the kitchen if you're done" he says, after looking comfortable with himself. I nod in response and follow him out the room, still confused with his earlier response.

The kitchen is cool and quiet; the morning bird's soft singing seems to be echoing outside in the mist, the sound only slightly noticeable from inside. The only one present is Tweek. He doesn't seem to notice us enter the room. He holds a cup of coffee in one hand, his eyes focused on the newspaper in the other; his black-framed glasses rests lightly on his nose, making a nice contrast with his pale face and soft blond hair. He looks so mature, his shaking hardly noticeable, making quite a nice picture.

"Morning Tweek" I greet him while Stan looks for breakfast in the kitchen. The blond jerks up from his papers, relaxing the moment he sees my face.

"Hey Kyle, ngh, you're up early"

"Yeah, Stan woke me up. What time is it?" My words are barely audible through my honest yawn, but my sleepiness instantly jolts out of me when Stan comes bolting out of the kitchen, slight haste showing in his loud footsteps.

"There's nothing in the kitchen" He says anxiously.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there's no food in the kitchen, nothing. Tweek, where did you get that coffee?"

Tweek jumps from the sudden question pointed at him. Questions are way too much pressure.

"Umm… I kept a small packet in my pocket yesterday." He shifts his eyes, wondering if it was the right answer. Stan waves his hand in Tweek's direction, as if expressing his point, but not too aggressively.

"See? There's no food in the house. Cartman didn't provide us with anything!"

Tweek shudders at Stan's statement, horror crossing over his face.

"Oh my god, Jesus! He tempted all of us into here without any food! He's planning all of us to starve then make us eat each other until only one of us survives! That's what he meant by elimination!"

I grab onto Tweek's shoulders tightly, desperate for him to calm down.

"Tweek it's okay, we're not going to eat each other. Stan there's gotta be something to eat"

But he shakes his head firmly and I feel a shred of panic rise within me. I now that even Cartman wouldn't do something like that, but this _is_ fatass we're talking about, and god knows what he would do.

"Dudes, chill"

Before the small panic begins to show on my face a cool voice enters the room and it immediately calms all of us down. I let my hands slide off Tweek when his twitching stops and I look up towards Craig Tucker just entering the room.

"I just found this on the front door. Kyle you're smart, what is it." His tone is more accusing than questioning and he hands me a small card. It's a rectangular card, fitting perfectly into my palm.

On the card is a picture of two circles, the small circle placed in the centre of the larger one. In the corner of the card in small writing is the number twenty. It takes me a minute to recognise the shape, but when I look up and look around the room, I immediately understand and smile at myself.

"It's a bird's eye view picture of the main outlines of the building." I explain to the confused three. "Look, this large circle is the outer wall and the small circle is the inner wall." I point at the two bending walls around us and they all nod in understanding.

"Wait, why would there be a picture of the house? We know what it looks like and this would be useless as a map" Good point Stan, but…

"See the number twenty in the corner? It could just be simply referring to our twenty days or, it could mean that there are more of these small cards we need to find."

Craig still remains emotionless but Stan and Tweek seem impressed, looking deeper into the card as if looking for anything else that might be hiding in it.

A few minutes later Butters and Kenny enter the room. Butters is clean and neat as always, as for Kenny, his blond hair is all over the place, his sweatpants hanging on his butt, the hems dragging along the floor.

"Yo, what's up?" He yawns out, scratching his stomach. I sigh at his messy features and explain to him and Butters about the card.

"Mmm-hmm" He examines the rectangular card, clearly uninterested and scratching his head. He flings the card out and looks up at me with tired eyes "So, what's for breakfast?"

"Just like I said! We can't find any!" His lack of listening really annoys me sometimes. The sleepy daze in his eyes fades away instantly from shock.

"What? So he wants us to starve!"

"How would we know!" Stan replies with frustration simmering in his voice.

I feel a little sick of arguing and decide to look around the room for any other clues. Craig does the same while Tweek and Butters look worryingly at the two arguing teenagers. I search around the room half-heartedly, not looking at anything in particular.

_I'm looking for a clue._ I tell myself. _Anything: a clue, a hint, a sign, a guide, an indicator, map, pointer... something that'll lead us to food…_ My thought stops there as something comes to mind. I rush towards the small bookcase near the television and swift my finger past the back of each book until I find the one that I want. I open it and a sheet of paper comes sliding out. _Bingo! _To hide a guide to food in a cook book; it's stupid, but not completely illogical.

"Hey guys! I think I found something"

Everyone gathers around me while I sit down and take a good look at the paper before placing it on the ground so the others could see. It's a map of a forest, presumably the area where we are. The map's divided into fifteen boxes of five rows and three columns. Each box has a small number in the corner from one to fourteen, except for the centre box which has the number twenty. Without hesitation I place the card Craig found a few minutes ago and it fits perfectly in the box. Stan laughs, impressed and Kenny rubs my back.

"I knew you were the smartest kid around" Kenny says, cheerfully. I smile up at him, quite pleased with myself. "So, what does this mean?" he leans in towards the paper, keeping his arm around my back.

"I think it means… that we need to find fourteen more of these cards" I hold up the only card we've got so far. I don't know if this treasure hunt would be fun, or just a simple pain in the ass.

For starters we all choose to go outside. I hate to say it but we don't have a plan and I have no idea where the other fourteen may be. I give a good glare towards the cameras on the ceiling before I go out the door. I know that Cartman is looking at us even now.

_So this is what you meant when you said that we had to wake up early in order to eat early. _

When I exit the door and everyone is circled around Butters, looking at something he was holding.

"Oh, Kyle!" He looks up at me merrily as I approach them. "See what was attached to the door!" His hand extends towards me energetically, a card in his hand. "So, does this mean we only need to find thirteen more?"

I take the card off of him and examine it. It was exactly the same card as the previous one, except that it had a large 'D' in the middle instead of two circles.

"I don't think so Butters" I say unfortunately, "This card has the number twenty on it. I think we're meant to place it on top of the other card." I get the map out and place the new card on top of the other one. Great; now we have a map with a large 'D' in the middle. I don't like where this is heading.

In order to find the other cards we decide to go in pairs. I insisted that we should go with our room mates and my insides slightly warmed up when Stan agreed. To my surprise, it was Craig who disagreed.

"We should choose with rock, paper scissors." We all look at him, most of us with a confused expression. I get the urge to protest but Butters' excited voice beets me.

"Oh gee, I love that game!" He says and bounces slightly on his spot. How could you get so excited from a stupid game of rock, paper scissors?

Before I get my chance to object we begin the game. And magically, with my stupid habit of playing scissors I end up with Stan. Craig ends up with Kenny (Craig looks a little unsatisfied, but I ignore it. It's probably my imagination), and Butters with Tweek. I kinda feel a little worried about the last pair.

When everyone seems comfortable I begin to state the plan.

"We need to find fourteen more cards, so that's about four or five cards each. If you find four or five, come back here. Even if we can't find enough we should meet up here when the sun passes the top." Everyone confirms with a smile or a nod. Thank god Cartman isn't here. He would have given me the shits for ordering everyone around.

"Let's go."

And with that, the quest begins. Gay.

It is still early in the morning and the mountain fog has only finally begun to fade. It would be at least a few hours before the sun passes the top. A wordless agreement comes between me and Stan that he would search in the trees for a card while I search on the ground.

As I duck my head down, searching for any sign of a card, my pace subconsciously becomes slower, until I'm actually trailing behind Stan than anywhere beside him. I don't know why. This is going to be one of my last moments alone with him before I have to change room mates tonight. But somehow, I can't get my mind to energetically talk to him and make conversation. Damn my morning sentimentality.

After about half an hour of facing down, searching while trailing along, my morning sentimentality begins to fade away as my mind begins to fully wake up. I suddenly get sick of looking down and staying quiet that I look up, ready to talk to Stan. But when I do look up, expecting a handsome raven a few feet away, I find nothing but trees. In slight confusion I look around, but find nothing and a tinge of worry flows through my mind.

"Stan?"

Anxiety shows in my voice as I look walk around, my eyes shifting from left to right, searching for any kind of movement.

_God, am I lost? Did I lose him because I was keeping my head down, occupied with my own stupid thoughts? _

"Stan!"

As my legs go into a slight jog, the desperateness in my voice becomes more audible.

_Shit. I __don't even know how to get back to the house!_

I search frantically behind every single nearby tree, calling out Stan's name as I do. The scenery is all the same and I can't recognise anything; the trees around me grow surreally larger as my mind begins to spin from panic. My breath becomes heavier and my mind becomes all knotted, not letting me think straight. The seconds alone feel like hours or even days, and I forget all existence in the world. It feels as though without Stan, I am completely alone…

With that sudden thought my mind clears for a moment, allowing me to think, or more like, allowing uneasy thoughts enter my brain.

_Two years ago I left Stan alone__, my mind was too closed in on my own feelings that I couldn't think of his. The amount of times he called my name, it was uncountable. And now I want him back, but was that even allowed? After leaving him lost in the dark for so long?_

My feet kick the ground, my wobbly legs barely able to hold the rebound I nearly fall over.

_Maybe this is my punishment. _

I try to keep the voice out of my head, trying to concentrate on looking while shutting out the negative thoughts.

_Maybe I deserve to be lost, to be left all alone._

"Stan!" I try to shout but my mind begins to shift towards the thoughts. My feet slow down, barely even a walk.

Maybe I do deserve to be lost. But even if I do, all I want now, I can understand it more than ever is,

"Stan…"

"Kyle?"

I look up at the sudden voice, half doubting what I heard. But there he is, standing right before me as if nothing had happened. His eyebrows are shifted in an angle, his eyes showing a colour of worry. When I see him, acknowledging his presence, my feet pick up pace again. My body moves slightly faster towards him with every step. And I can't contain myself.

Stan barely gets the chance to understand what was happening, unable to prepare himself for an attack before I lunge myself into him. He lets out a small grunt of pain and crushes straight into the ground.

"Stan I'm so sorry!" I wail out, still cringing onto him.

"What the hell? Kyle, what happened?" With his deeply worried voice I let my grip loosen on him. I suddenly realise that we were only apart for no more than two minutes.

"I just… I thought I lost you" My arms fall from his back and I slowly slide off his torso, avoiding his bewildering gaze. But as I feel my cheeks begin to blush, I hear Stan's light chuckle and I'm pulled gently onto my feet.

"Dude, I'll never leave you!" He says cheerfully, steadying me by holding onto my shoulders.

"But I guess now you know how it feels." His voice is quiet. And although it is a harsh statement there could be no venom detected in his voice, only showing a tone of sadness and acceptance. And as if his that statement wasn't enough, when I look up at him and see the gentle but painful smile on his face, my stomach instantly shudders and my heart feels like it is being squeezed tightly.

His gentle grip leaves my shoulders, and as his hands reach into his pockets, his face light up with a pure delight, his new bright smile magically making me forget his previous hurtful one.

"Look what I found!" He says energetically as he takes his hand out of his pocket, something gripped inside. He opens his palm slowly revealing the inside. I can't hide the excitement in me when I see what it is.

"Dude, you found it!"

Inside his palm he held two rectangular cards. One with a large 'T' in the centre and the number fourteen in the corner, the other one with a large 'E' on it with the number eleven in the corner. So now we had a 'D', 'T' and 'E'. It doesn't really tell us much.

"They were both stack onto a tree, and I think I have an idea where the next one could be." He asks for the map and I hand it over to him. "So I found the 'E' card somewhere in the eleven box and the 'T' card in the fourteen box" His finger points at the boxes on the map as he explains. "And they both belong to the number in the corner of the card, which means if we needed to fid the thirteenth card we would have to look in the thirteenth box."

I smile at him, purely impressed with his quick thinking.

"So, which card do you think we should look for next?"

"I think we should look for the thirteenth card, it'll be the closest"

He nods in agreement and quickly heads to his left with a strong, confident gait.

"Ahh, Stan?"

He stops at my hesitated call and turns to look at me with a confused look.

"Yeah?"

"Umm… It's this way"

I point to the right, the opposite direction to where he was heading. He looks blankly at my pointing finger for a second, then his face turns slightly pink and he walks hurriedly towards the correct direction. I can't help but laugh at his comical behaviour and it takes me a moment to regain my normal breathing.

But even after I regain my breath, I stand there and watch his back as he walks with excitement (and slight embarrassment). My mind stops operating properly for a second as I stand there and a million little thoughts come into my mind.

_I want him back. _That is what I thought earlier, but did I? Did I really want him back as how we were before, or did I want him in a completely different way?

"Come on Kyle!"

My conscience comes back to reality with his call, and I quickly jog up towards him.

With all the conflicting feelings and desires dominating my brain I find that thinking for an answer was hopeless. But I figured out one thing, and it's so simple.

_I can't lose him again._

How I want him is not important, because all I want is to be beside him.

When I arrive at Stan's side I look down again, searching the ground for a sign of a card. My mind doesn't drift into thought anymore, but my feet subconsciously begin to lose its pace again as I face down. But this time, before I could drift too far back I'm held firmly beside him by my wrist. Naturally, my cheeks begin to burn but I try to ignore it. He lets go of my wrist after my pace is steady beside him. And as we walk side by side, another silent agreement comes between us. I no longer search on the ground, but I search to my right while he searches his left.

In what seems like the thirteenth box of the map we are left with the realisation that searching for such a small card would not be as easy as we thought, despite the fact that we (or Stan) were able to find two in such a small period. It has been over an hour since we entered the area and we still haven't spotted the card.

As we walk around the woods aimlessly, concentrating our mind on searching for any sign of a card, a natural silence comes between us. Not like the awkward silence that usually dominates us, but a peaceful, comforting silence. But just as the quiet begins to feel relaxing, I find a small white figure hiding behind a tree and I let out a small yell of excitement.

"Stan!"

He looks at me surprisingly as I jump towards the tree and grab our third card. I hold it out to give him a good look at it.

"Found it!"

His surprised expression loosens and turns into a small smile and a sigh of relief. After I let him look at the card for a long second I turn it around and examine it myself. This time, the card had a large 'U' in the middle. Hmm… Still no clue what it means.

If we find two more cards it would be more than enough to go back to the house. I'm suddenly feeling excited about this challenge.

Surprisingly enough, we find the next two cards quite easily, maybe even too easily for my liking. Fatass didn't do such a great job hiding them. We look up at the sun which was fully up in the sky. We both agree that it was about time to head back.

At this point I'm feeling really satisfied with myself. I was able to find three cards with Stan and most importantly, I can feel that our relationship has really improved in the short amount of time after my short emotional drama. Stan apparently feels the same way; I can see with the way he smiles and glances at me, warm and without the usual subtle sadness. I even have the confidence that I'll be able to talk to him even after we change room mates.

When we arrive at the house we find that we're not the first ones there. Craig and Kenny are leaning against the wall, sitting tiredly with their four cards spread over the ground. As we approach them Kenny looks up at me, cocking his eyes in a way I can't really understand. My eyes drift towards Craig and I immediately regret it. He was looking at me and Stan in an extremely frustrated, even angry way and it makes me slightly uncomfortable, since I'm not really used to his emotions.

An arm suddenly crawls behind my back onto my shoulder and I twitch slightly from the unexpected touch and swing around and face Kenny.

"Kyle, can I talk to you for a minute?"

He drags me away from the others without waiting for my answer. After we are a good distance away from the two ravens Kenny turns me around to face him, digging his face into mine close enough that I can feel his breath on my nose.

"Dude, what happened?"

"What?"

"Kyle, you and Stan, the atmosphere around you guys had magically changed in the past few hours, what happened?"

"What?"

"Holy shit, did you guys make out?"

"What!"

I stare at him disbelievingly with embarrassment while he looks down at me with eagerness and slight annoyance. When I gain my voice after a few seconds of a flapping mouth I practically shout at him, ruining the reason of our distance between the other two.

"What the fuck Kenny! Just… No. Dude!"

"Just askin'!"

He jerks his face away from mine and swings his hands up innocently. But he quickly puts them down and his defensive expression drops into a slight, mischievous smile.

"But you want to, don't you?"

"Huh!"

"To kiss him"

I glare at him, wishing that lasers will spark out of my eyes and attack Kenny, but he ignores my death-glare and leans back into my face, whispering through hot breath.

"I could do it for you"

Without hesitation I push him as strongly as my thin arms could manage, able to send him crushing down into the ground, kissing the mud.

"Fuck off Kenny! I would tell on you, you know"

He quickly gets up quickly without much damage, an entertained smile covering his face.

"She wouldn't mind!"

A flare of frustration ignites within from his light laughter and I push him back into the ground, pinning him down for a few seconds before getting off of him and walking back towards the staring ravens. A barely take a few steps before strong hands grab at my arm pits and lifts me into the air.

"Goddamn it Kenny!"

"Chillax Kyle!" He laughs out and walks with me in his arms, still holding me up by my arm pits.

"Do either of you want him? He's on sale" He dangles me in front of the two and they stare at him blankly. This is unbelievable.

To my surprise, Stan gets up and takes me out of Kenny's bony hands.

"Fuck off Kenny" He says with his usual venomless voice, but still showing a tone of frustration.

Yeah, I would be completely happy if I still wasn't dangled by the armpits. I feel like a fucking lost puppy being shared among an animal lover and an insensitive brat. I gaze at Stan, waiting for him to put me down with heat burning my face.

"Ahh… Stan?"

"Marsh"

Craig's voice overlaps mine with a stronger and harsher tone and Stan practically drops me in surprise.

"Oh, shit, sorry Kyle!"

"It's okay"

I give him a forced laugh and rub my butt that I landed on when I fell out of his grip.

At that second, the sound of breaking twigs echoes around and we all look back and find the last two guys arrive with a slightly worried expression.

"Jesus! Did you guys wait long!"

"No Tweek we just arrived"

I reassure him with a smile and their worried expression instantly drops with a sigh of relief. Tweek hurries towards us with a stumbling Butters following and they both drop five cards onto the ground beside the others'.

"W-well I sure hope that's enough, we kinda panicked when we forgot how many we were meant to find" Butters says while rubbing his knuckles together.

Kenny smiles at them with pleasure.

"Nuh, it's perfect Butters. I knew we only needed to find four" Correction: I knew you two teams would find five each so we kinda slacked off after the fourth card. Bastards.

I gather the cards on the ground and put them with the ones I found with Stan. Yup. Fifteen in total. They each have a large letter in the middle with a small number in the corner. I take the map out and we all eagerly place each card in the right place.

Kenny attempts to make a sexual term but fails and I have to yell at him to give up. He pouts like a kid when I yell at him and he tries to defend himself.

"What? I'm just trying to have fun! This doesn't even mean anything! What's Whotheoddoneout anyway? German?"

"You dumbass Kenny! You read the words separately. It says 'Who the odd one out'?" With the stupid grammar I get confused half way through reading it. But I get the message.

"So who's the odd one out? Of us" Stan asks with a shrug.

"It could be me 'cause I'm the only one with a girlfriend"

"I-I have a boyfriend" Butters suggests back to Kenny's statement.

"I'm the only one with major mental problems!"

"You're fine Tweek" I answer the twitching blonde's out burst.

"It'll be Kyle"

We all stop our ludicrous debate at the monotonous voice and turn to face Craig.

"Logically thinking, if it was Cartman who made this stupid task then he'll want Kyle to be the only one out."

I frown at his suggestion but he has a point. My mind instantly goes through the possibilities of why I would be the odd one out. Red hair, religion, grades, family, health conditions… dude there's too many.

"Kyle, there is _one_ thing that I was wondering since this morning" Kenny looks at me curiously while the million possibilities disappear from my mind.

"What?"

He jumps up right towards me, unnecessarily elegantly, causing me to flinch at his sudden presence. His left hand curls around my waist, bringing me closer into him so he could whisper into my ear.

"Why are you wearing such short shorts?"

A shiver crawls down my neck when his hot breath enters my ear, and the next second my whole body freezes as long, masculine fingers brushes my thighs. I shudder back to life when I notice that Kenny's right hand was exploring my right leg, his left hand still clenched to my waist.

I shove him over as quickly and strongly as my little hands could, causing him to fall back into Craig who swiftly makes way so that Kenny could crash into the ground.

"Kenny, I swear to god if you touch me like that one more time I would totally break your fucking nose!"

"Sorry Kyle, but man, how could I resist?"

"Gah!"

I shout in aggravation and lunge at him, frustrated with the fact that there was no way to hold down his perverted nature. But as I pin him down, giving him undamaging punches his previous words come to mind and I get up and look around at everyone.

Everyone here was wearing white sweat pants and a blank shirt. I was the only one wearing shorts. It seemed too simple to be relevant but one thing does come to mind.

"The clothes box…"

"Huh?"

I get off Kenny and face everyone else, my words hurry out of my mouth from excitement.

"The box Cartman gave us with all out clothes in it? Everyone had their names on it except mine which had 'Jew' on it. Naturally because I'm the only Jew here"

"But how would that tell us were the food is?" I look down at Kenny who furrows his eyebrows in confusion. I grin at him confidently.

"I think I have an idea."

I lead everyone into the house excitedly, passing quickly through the corridor into my room. Everyone gathers around me as I grab my box and begin to tear the 'Jew' tag off.

"Bingo"

On the back of the tag was a small picture of two circles, same as the first card we found, but with a red dot in the centre of the circle.

"That son of a bitch!"

Everyone jumps at my sudden out burst and lean in to see the picture for themselves.

"That fucking fatass kept the food in the house all along!"

"What, on that red dot? Dude there wasn't anything in that room." Kenny looks at me doubtingly but I ignore him and stump out the room, heading for the dot.

The dot was in the centre room; the small circular room in the middle of the house. There was not much in there, only a few instruments and DVDs, games, it was more like a storage room. The other guys follow me worryingly, still confused.

I open the door harshly and flick the switches on, walking challengingly into the room. There is no sign of food and everyone looks at me doubtingly as they walk inside. The room wasn't really made for six guys and the floor creeks as they all squish in. …Wait.

"Everyone get out"

"Huh?"

"I said get out!" Repeating my order to Butters I push everyone out of the room and go on my knees, hitting against the floor. I smile when I hear an echoing sound and begin to search for a small dent or a small handle. With all the excitement and frustration I don't really feel sorry for the guys waiting at the door, still in the dark.

I finally find a small handle that must be for open the hidden door. I tug on it but it doesn't move. I crouch on my feet and try to open the door but it still doesn't bulge. After a few seconds of trying to heave up the door my hands slip off the handle and I crush backwards onto the ground. Kenny laughs hysterically and Tweek hurries beside me, making me blush from embarrassment. Magically, Stan and Craig are able to open it easily, which only adds to my humiliation.

"Kyle, you did it!"

Stan says and heaves me up to my feet and smiles at me. I peek into the hidden room and see an impressive amount of food storage. Absolutely everything you could imagine was in there, plenty for twenty days. I even find a stash of fresh looking coffee beans and I hear Tweek screech with joy.

"Congratulations!"

As I begin to feel a sense of completion and exhaustion a familiar stomach twisting voice comes from the lounge room and I groan with distaste.

We all walk into the lounge and find that the television was on, showing an ugly fat face.

"I have to say that I'm impressed Kyle, I didn't expect that you'll be able to find it before, say, 6pm?"

"Fuck you fatso!" I spit at the screen, but even after I call him fat he keeps his fulfilled smile and continues talking.

"I hope you guys liked the first activity, I must say I put quite a lot into it."

We all growl at the screen like hungry animals as he examines his nails and looks at us like we were trapped dogs in a cage or something.

"As I promised, there _will_ be points given to the person who worked the best, and of course, those points go to the magnificent Jew! I hope you guys have a wonderful afternoon and… Ciao"

Before I get the pleasure to yell at him for his ridiculous 'activity' he disappears from the screen and it automatically turns off, leaving the six of us infuriated, staring at the blank screen.

The first thing we did after we get our minds off Cartman's bastardness was eat. We didn't eat in over fifteen hours which means that we completely missed both breakfast and lunch.

Butters was the one that kindly volunteered to cook and it caught me by surprise that he was amazing at it. He made an enormous lasagne and garlic bread, absolutely heavenly, but the only bad thing was that he took way too long to make it. It was practically our normal dinnertime when we finally began to eat.

Now, I'm packing the small amount of clothes I took out back into the box, ready to move out of me and Stan's room. I try to take as long as I can with it, trying to enjoy my last moments alone with Stan.

Tonight I'll be staying with Butters. Not exactly exciting, but it'll be okay.

When I'm finished packing Stan comes up to me and tries to curry the box, but I stop him.

"It's okay. I can hold it."

I don't exactly know why, but I feel like I have to hold it; not just for manners but, I just feel like I should.

He doesn't look thrown back or even the slightest bit uncomfortable with my decline. I'm happy with the fact that he doesn't take it personally; I bet he would have earlier. He simply nods and hands the box to me. The box digs into my arms and slightly takes me down, but I stand firm on my feet and keep my balance.

It's heavy, but it's okay.

I can handle it.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- Thank for reading and, I know. That was a horrible chapter. I messed up the characters and played too much but, I had fun. If you want to give me the shits please review, if you want to tell me that it wasn't thaaaaat shit please review! Oh, and no one said that this was a Style story :) Just sayin'<br>**


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N-Thanks for reading/reviewing! Hope you enjoy**

* * *

><p>"Dude, you stink"<p>

"Fuck off Kenny"

I know that I stink. I've been wearing the same shirt for four days; the long sleeved shirt Stan gave me on the first day. I seriously need to change shirts but it turns out that no one else I asked had a long sleeved shirt.

"Just wear a short sleeved shirt Kyle. Seriously, no one cares. We're not in middle school anymore, no one will rip you off."

Kenny sits on his bed crossed legged, staring at me with a bored gaze. This is not the first time we're having this conversation and with the way we're heading, I bet he thinks I'm a winy sixteen year-old girl or something. But I don't really care what he thinks.

I look at his healthy looking arms, toned with not bulky, but nice smooth muscle. I feel my own arms hidden under my long sleeves and give a light glare at them. Slight concern crosses Kenny's face and gets up his bed and jumps next to me on my mattress.

"Seriously dude your arms are fine. I even think they're sexy!" I furrow my eyebrows slightly, not impressed with his comforting.

"Thanks dude, that makes me feel much better."

That second we hear a light nock on the door and it opens without our permission. Not that we care. A natural smile crosses my face when I see the familiar raven enter our room.

"Hey Stan"

"Hey Kyle. Hey Kenny"

He smiles back at me and nods his head at Kenny.

"It's a bit early for room changing isn't it?" The blond asks, bringing his arm around my shoulder and tugging me against him. I don't know why he suddenly has to touch me when someone else is present, especially Stan. Stan looks at us with a strange, short gaze before dropping his box on the ground while answering Kenny's question.

"I'm only dumping my things in here, I can't stand Craig at the moment." I chuckle at his statement.

"Who can ever?"

Stan looks up at me after my light joke, his expression taking me by surprise. His eyes flare with desire, as if fighting an urge to say something, his mouth opening then closing several times. My smile instantly drops with confusion and concern.

"What?"

As if my voice was a trigger, his strange expression disappears, looking as if he was suddenly brought back to reality.

"Um, nothing. Ahh… Is it bad if I stay here?"

His voice is rushed. He didn't really seem like he really cared for the answer, only wanting to change subject. I open my mouth nonetheless to reply but Kenny beets me, pulling closer into a hug and digging his chin into my neck and purrs.

"Yeah it's bad"

Stan looks at him, confused and slightly pink in the face and lost in words. I push Kenny off my bed, flinging him to the ground and force a smile at Stan.

"No, sure, it's okay!" My mind even considers offering him if I should leave, but then I remember my next roommate and my mouth shuts. My next roommate was Craig Tucker.

The past few days went really well. After the second night I had with Butters, I was with Tweek and last night I was with Kenny. They were all enjoyable and there wasn't much unexpected drama.

I didn't get much sleep with Butters or Tweek though. Butters kept on waking up screaming in the middle of the night, saying that he had a nightmare about his parents (poor dude, his dad is worse than my mom). I was expecting getting not much sleep with Tweek. He still wasn't a deep sleeper and doesn't really sleep for more than six hours at the best. As always, I stayed up with him while he was awake, talking about random stuff as usual (the amount of random facts he knows is seriously amazing).

But tonight I had Craig, and god knows how awkward or awful it'll be, considering the fact that he hates my guts.

After Stan got his stuff ready the three of us leave to the lounge room to play a card game or something. We figured during the first four days here that even the slightest activities like games would affect our points.

The strange thing is that nobody really cared about the points. We all didn't want to be eliminated and while we were all kinda interested in the money, I think that everybody was here for a more personal reason. I could even name most of them just from their personalities.

I smile at myself while following Kenny and Stan into the lounge, remembering my own personal reason why I was here and how it was working much faster than I expected.

When we enter the lounge we find that Tweek and Butters were already there. The two face each other nervously, playing Uno. It was kind of a sad scene.

"Dude, who plays Uno with only two people?" Kenny leans in towards Butters, amused, but unimpressed.

"Oh, hi ya Kenny! Do you wanna join us?"

Kenny raises his eyebrows and sits down next to him, grabbing some cards from the pile and handing some to Stan and me.

Okay, so you don't have to be dumb to completely suck at Uno. It is our fifth game and I came last nearly every time. I get the urge to throw the cards violently and just give up, but my hot blood doesn't let me quit before I win a game.

The minute I try to play my next hand we hear heavy footsteps and we all look up from the game. Craig stops in the middle of his steps, looking a bit taken back by all our gazes. His eyes instantly stops on Stan's and shoots a dark glare at him. Stan, in response, hardens his stare until it becomes filled with distaste towards the other noirette.

"You wanna play Craig" My mouth practically spews out the words before I could think, wanting to break the tension between the two. Stan's head swings towards me, disbelief covering his face. Craig looks at me blankly, his eyes glowing with slight surprise. I immediately regret what I just said, feeling the pressure from the two's gazes.

"No" He replies simply.

I let out a small breath of relief from his decline and turn my mind back into the game. Damn it; I forgot which card I was going to play. My hand moves towards the 'pick up two' card hesitantly, but I'm stopped by a monotonous whisper in my ear.

"Not that one idiot. Leave that so you can play it over when the person before you does."

Taking in his words absentmindedly, my hand moves towards the card next to it. I don't know if I should feel ashamed or whatever by Craig's help, but when Kenny, who's sitting next to me picks up a card after my hand I feel good.

"Damn it Craig, what did you tell Kyle?" He scratches his head frustratingly.

"Nothing"

My body jolts with the sudden realisation of how close he was, but he simply leans back away from me naturally. Wait. Did Craig Tucker just help me? My eyes wonder with my thought and they find Stan glaring past me onto Craig. Dude, I'm seriously missing something here.

Nearly every turn after that my hand was stopped and changed by Craig's advice. I don't know what his intention was (maybe trying to make Stan lose after their fight or something), but it was really helpful. I was quite defensive at the start and my blood boiled by his mocking tone, but every time I ignored his advises he glared at me and grabbed a card from my hand and played it without my consent so, after a while I gave in and listened to him. I practically leapt with joy when I came first for the first time in my life. Stan looked annoyingly at Craig who sneered at him satisfyingly, I felt a little bad for Stan after that but he came second so there wasn't much to feel sorry about, right?

As I reflect on my one win while packing up the cards onto the shelf I wrinkle my nose in disgust. The body odour that flies into my face when I lift up my arms does not exactly smell like roses and daisies. I am a man, after all.

After packing for room change I decide to have a shower and gather up my small pride and courage to change into a short-sleeved shirt. Maybe Kenny's right; maybe no one will say anything about my arms.

I move my stuff into Craig's room and quickly grab a new shirt out and head for the showers. To be honest, I can't wait to get out of this long-sleeved son of a bitch.

The hot water washes every inch of my body, draining away any unpleasant feelings tickling my brain. Showering is like a time of reflection to me, the memories of the day come up then are washed away by the water. But my mind lingers on a certain thought.

What happened between Stan and Craig? I can't imagine Stan deliberately getting into a fight and I don't think Craig could be bothered to start one either. But as I turn the taps off and dry myself the wonder fades away. I instantly feel refreshed when I pull my head and arms through the new shirt. Unlike the other shirt, it almost fits me.

When I arrive at the door of what is tonight my and Craig's room, my hand pauses on the handle. My mind and body feel completely refreshed, but when I look down at my arm on the handle, memories of middle school rush through me, and the courage that was in me a few seconds ago seem to rinse by as I think of the boy on the other side of the door.

_Come on Kyle_

I push down on the heavy door handle and my subconscious force flings the door open, crashing it into the wall, taking me by surprise. Craig turns to look at me, or more like the exploding sound, but I try to look cool, drying my hair with the small towel as if nothing happened.

"You didn't have to make such a dramatic entrance."

I blush at the monotonous voice and glare up at him. He's lying on his bed, earphones in his ears, gazing up at me with a bored stare.

"Shut up!" was the best comeback I could come up with. I felt slightly embarrassed at how pathetic it sounded but I continue to glare at him, expecting that he'll get bored with me and look away. He didn't. He kept on staring at me with a blank expression and with every millisecond that went by I felt the scarlet on my cheeks extend to my ears.

A long twenty seconds passed before he finally moved his eyes away from me, but instead of engaging back into his music, he turned the whole player off and took his earphones out of his ears, sitting up onto his bed and moving his eyes back onto me. I try to ignore his stare, pacing around while pretending to concentrate on drying my hair. But after a few seconds, I just can't stand it. As the embarrassment inside of me began to boil into rage I throw my towel onto the bed for a dramatic affect and stare down at him, arms on my hips.

"What the fuck are you staring at, Craig!" I try to sound intimidating, which I think I have a good chance of since I was standing up, glaring down on him for once in my life. But even with my intimidating stance his expression doesn't really change, I even feel slight amusement lingering in his eyes.

All of a sudden he gets up, standing, half leaning into me as if he was always there. I lightly jerk back with surprise, my rage disappearing into faint intimidation from the overwhelming height difference.

"What am I staring at?" He smirks, taking a step into me. I step back automatically, still trying to keep my glare in tact. He takes another step in, but this time when I try to step back from him he grabs my left wrist and pulls it up beside my cheek. He walks in, pushing me back by my wrist until my back hits a wall. I groan from the sudden pain shooting from my wrist that was locked in by his firm grip. Now he had the height advantage and he's caged me in, but I'm still able to keep my scowl even through the ache. But even that is hard to keep when he leans his face deeper into to mine, forming a dark shadow in my sight.

"I'm staring at you." My heart jumps at the cold voice; he smirks again when my wrist jumps in his grip as my heart does.

"Honestly Broflovski, I didn't think you'll be able to expose your arms after middle school, thinking how self-conscious you are." A small groan passes through my lips again as he pulls my arm up against the wall by my wrist. The short sleeves slide down into my shoulder, exposing the last bit of arm I had covered up. I could hear my heart beat faster and louder in my head from panic, the strength in my glare no longer there.

"Seriously though, your arms are so fucking pale and skinny they're like a girl's. Even my sister has more muscle than you"

"Don't fucking touch me!" The words half shriek out my mouth, I don't know if it's from rage or embarrassment, or even fear. When he shows no sign of letting me go, I try to wiggle out of his grip, but my arm had began to numb slightly from the loss of blood, making it hard to strengthen. He smirks at my pathetic attempt, which stops my mind circulation for a second and when my mind clears, my forehead was crashing into his. He takes a few steps back from me, letting go of my wrist and holding his forehead. I feel dizzy and my head's throbbing, but I'm able to keep my balance and dash out the room with wobbling feet.

I clench the stinging area on my forehead, sinking deeply into the lounge room couch waiting for the pain to disappear. But as it does, I begin to wish that it could occupy me a little longer, not leaving me alone to deal with the stupid memories that were entering my mind as the pain begins to clear.

Middle school, especially towards the end was completely horrible. The main reason was of course because I had to deal with my feelings towards Stan, resulting the end of our friendship, but everything after that also went downhill. Without Stan and the small interactions with Kenny I understood that I was nearly always alone. When I didn't have the guilt and hate towards myself I didn't really mind being alone. I even felt better when I was alone than with being with other people since I thought I deserved it. The one thing I couldn't stand was Cartman.

I don't know what his problem was, but during the last year of middle school he was worse than ever, without Stan or Kenny he thought he was open to abuse me freely as he wanted and truth was, he was right. If I could half call him a friend during primary school, during those times he definitely wasn't. He wasn't really physical; he more concentrated on mentally tormenting me.

He was experimental, not in an original and creative way, more like, trying-the-oldest-bully-tricks-in-the-book kind of way. I was quite immune to him though. Thinking of him as an immature, simple-minded bastard child kind of helped me cope with him. But the one thing that he was able to get to me was my arms. My stupid, sissy, skinny little arms.

He formed a little bully gang and kept coming onto me; it was more annoying than hurtful. Craig wasn't part of the gang, but when he had the chance, he would torment me all the same. Come to think of it, does that mean I was friends with Tweek then? Anyway the way he ripped on me, I don't know if he was the one that caused my complex or if it was Cartman. I just remember one day, I wore long sleeves to school, hoping that they'll stop annoying me, but after that, I wasn't really able to take it off.

I hear something clock on the table and my mind immediately drifts away from the stupid memory back into reality. My head jolts up without pain, and see that Tweek was standing in front of me, eyeing me worryingly after placing a coffee cup onto the small table.

"Kyle, _urg_, are you okay?" My mind blanks out for a second before grasping my situation.

"Yeah, I'm fine" I lie. He smiles weakly and sits beside me, sipping on his coffee. I can't help but sigh at his presence. "Your boyfriend has serious issues." the words breathe out of me, hardly audible, but Tweek jerks in his spot, spraying the coffee in his mouth back into the cup.

"Boyfriend? I don't have a boyfriend!" He shrieks, shock in his eyes showing the emotion he was feeling: basically, just unbelievable shock and confusion. I move my eyes from him lazily, a little tired, emotionally worn out.

"Sorry; it's nothing" My apology is emotionless, and only increases his worrisome expression. He grabs the coffee he made for me off the table and hands it over with shaking hands.

"You- ngh, need this" His concerned but gentle voice makes me smirk at myself a little.

"Tweek, it's 10pm. A little late for coffee"

"Oh Jesus, right! Sorry-" Panic rises in his eyes and he takes the cup away from me, raising it towards his lips.

"No! Wait Tweek, I'm sorry, I'll drink it." I snatch the cup out of his cool hands. The guy already has too much caffeine in his system already.

Despite what I just said about the time coffee doesn't really affect me. Well, it just makes me sleepy, so I don't mind drinking it late at night.

I kinda regret it though, after draining the black liquid down my throat. When the drowsiness overcomes me I remember that I have to go back to my room in order to sleep, which means that I had to face Craig before entering the comfortable bed. Or maybe he'd fallen asleep by now. Wait a minute, what the fuck? Why did I have to feel intimidated by his presence?

Sudden anger and frustration overcomes me and I leap to my feet, startling Tweek with the sudden weight off the couch.

"Tweek, I'm going to bed!" Unnecessary confidence and courage in my voice seems to confuse Tweek. He stares at me with wondering and disbelieving eyes.

"Argh… Oh man. Um… Good night?"

"'Night!"

Leaving the confused blond on the couch I storm towards my- our bedroom. I burst the door open, challengingly and glare into the peaceful room.

"Can't you enter quietly for once" A cool voice hits me and my fiery glare drops its temperature. Craig was lying on his bed, not bothered to look up at me from his book. He was acting as if the small conflict before never happened, and I suddenly feel stupid at my own challenging stance and dramatic entrance.

The sleepiness that overcame me a minute earlier before I hyped up with frustration and anger began to crawl back into me. I let out a small yawn and head for the bed after turning the light off, leaving only his reading light on. I dig my way into my bed, trying to ignore his blazing reading light. It was only ten o'clock and he still had the right to read.

Sleepiness and tiredness was begging my body to fall asleep. I roll around in my bed, the cover over my head trying to find a position where the small irritating light was not so blinding. But no matter how hard I tried or how tired my mind was I could not drown into that nice comfortable sleep. I duck my head out the sheets painfully, looking at the time. Holy damn, I've been rolling around in my bed for almost an hour.

"Craig," words are hard to form when you're half asleep. "Do you need the light on?"

"Yes" He answers, again without moving his eyes off his book.

"Craig, _please_ turn the light off" The please turned out more demanding than pleading.

"No" The anger inside me begins to grow at his simple answer.

"Craig, turn the fucking light off"

"No"

"Craig, I'm trying to sleep so _please_ turn the fucking light off!"

"No"

That's it. I jump out of my bed and walk over to him, switching his light off aggressively. Without looking at his reaction I dig back into my bed, pleased with the complete darkness. After about half a second I hear a switch and the room lights up again.

"Fucking hell!" I groan and get out of bed again, turning his light off. This time he immediately turns it back on, moving his gaze from his book onto me. I glare down at him and turn the switch back off, then he turns it back on again, his expression still unchanged. I turn it back off he turns it back on; I turn it back off, he turns it back on. After continuing the action several times the boiling blood seems to pop my veins and I plug the cord out of the wall, carrying the light to the window, open it, and release the blinding son of a bitch into the pitch darkness.

Finally feeling fulfilled and pleased with myself I toddle back to my bed and this time, slide into it relaxingly. Sighing from comfort I become milliseconds away from a perfect sleep before blinding light enters pass my eyelids into my eyes again. I get up, staring up disbelievingly towards the door. That black-haired bastard was standing next to the door, his fingers on the room light switch, staring down at me his face still expressionless. He no longer wanted the light on for reading; he wanted it on for pissing me off.

Rage completely dominating my mind now, I storm out of my bed and stump towards him with my hands on my waist and flick the switch off. But he flicks it back on nonchalantly.

"What the hell is your problem!" I screech out, turning the light back off.

"I want to read," He says, staring at me. He puts his finger on the switch, but I keep my finger on it underneath, preventing him on turning it back on. However, when he pushes me slightly my finger easily comes off the switch and room lights up again.

I glare daggers up at him and step towards the switch but he comes in between, blocking my way. I try to walk around him but he shifts his spot, following my path. The anger ticks in my brain and I push at him with both my arms, desperately frustrated for him to move. When I push my strength into my arms extended onto his chest he grabs at my two wrists and swings around behind me, bringing my wrists with him. I yelp at the sudden pain that shoots up my arms as he locks them behind my back.

"Just give up Broflovski." His tone is factual, but the quiet voice enters into my ear, tickling my rage.

"Shut the hell up Tucker" I hiss between my teeth. He ignores the painful tone in my voice and twists my arms joints harder, making me shout a short yell of pain.

"Fuck, fuck! Get your fucking hands off of me!" He only twists even harder at my demand, causing me to kick helplessly at the air, yelping in agony.

When my eyes begin to tear up from the pain and I open my mouth no give up, the door bursts open, catching us both in surprise.

"Kyle are you okay- Craig what the Fuck!" For an instance I forget the pain and anger, looking at who just entered in. Stan, with an expression of worry, surprise and most of all, anger, was at the door, glaring at Craig behind me disbelievingly.

"Stan!" My mouth slips a hopeful smile and my twisted arms behind me are released as Stan grabs Craig by the collar of his shirt and drags him forwards.

"This is none of your business Marsh" Craig says coolly, he doesn't seem to show any emotion except irritation even when he's grabbed and glared at by Stan.

"None of my business? _You_ think this is none of my business?" Stan's voice is strong and accusing; he emphasises the word 'you' and spits it out at Craig. I don't really know where his anger was coming from; maybe it was from their personal fight they had earlier. But that doesn't explain- Dude, I'm completely lost.

"Ah… Guys?" I try to cut in, but they ignore my small voice, continuing to charge at each other with daggers of words and flaming tones. This is ridiculous. I don't know why they hate each other but listening to their fight they both sound pathetic and meaningless. I don't remember seeing Stan so angry and I haven't heard Craig talk so much.

"Guys!" The word blurts out of my mouth. I wasn't intending it to be so loud but it caught their attention. They stop dead and stare at me surprisingly, as if just remembering by existence. Without their words flying around the room it's completely silent, to the point that it was awkward. Caught in what to do, I decide to face Stan who was still dazing at me with worried eyes.

"Stan, I'm okay. The asshole just didn't let me turn the light off and I got really pissed. But we're both going to bed now so it's okay." I rip Craig off of him and lightly push him out the door. He turns around and faces me after he's pushed out the door. A look of dissatisfaction is still lingering in his face and I feel slightly guilty; the guy helped me after all. Holding down a squeezing feeling in my stomach I rise up into his ear, standing on my toes. He looks at me confusingly but leans his ear into my lips. I hope he doesn't notice my blush.

"Thanks for coming though; you really helped me" I quickly duck back down after whispering the short appreciation, releasing my shaky toes from agony.

"'Night!" Before he could detect anything in my face, and before he could reply I shut the door on him and lean against the shut door.

After seeing that Craig was back on his bed I turn the light off and try to dig through the darkness for my own. After all that drama, my mattress sinks all my body weight in, making it feel ten times better than before. I don't need to fight for darkness or quiet this time. Sleep just gently draws me in.

My eyelids feel like they weigh ten pounds, impossible to lift up, and when I finally manage to, I'm welcomed by nothing but a blinding light. I jump up from my mattress, rubbing my eyes and groaning from the pain that shoot through my arms as I put weight on them to get up. After adjusting to the light, I blink and look towards the window. The curtains were pulled back slightly in an unnatural way, letting in a beam of light that landed perfectly on my pillow, exactly where my head was a few seconds ago.

"That fucking asshole"

"What fucking asshole?"

A bored voice repeats my words and I feel my heart jump. Gazing up I see Craig leaning against the bedroom door, looking at me with his usual unreadable face.

"I didn't know you talked in your sleep"

"What?" I'm slightly taken back by his sudden comment. "I don't talk!"

"You do" He says, still emotionless. My mind pauses for a short second.

"What did I say?" My heart thumps subtly, worrying if I had said anything embarrassing.

"You mostly called out people's names and accused them. With the amount of times you called out Cartman's name I would have said you were in love with him" I groan in disgust at even considering the idea. I shake my head, trying to get the fatass out of my head.

"Who else did I call?"

"You called Tweek a few times, and Kenny, and-" He pauses in mid-sentence, suddenly glaring into space. A short chill crawls down behind my back but curiosity takes over.

"And… who?"

His eyes shoot up at me, as if just remembering that we were having a conversation. His glare had disappeared, but only after a subtle second after it was directed towards me.

"No one" He moves his eyes off me and gets off the door, heading out of the room with his long legs. Well, that was strange.

After getting changed and packing my box of clothes, humming from the idea that I won't be sleeping with Craig again, I skip out the room towards the kitchen.

I grab a pure green apple from the fruit basket and head into the lounge, surprised to find that everyone was already there. They were in front of the television, which is showing yet again the familiar fat face that I apparently call out in my sleep.

"What do you want this time Tubby?" I say through my teeth, nibbling on my apple. His nose wrinkles in irritation, but he tries to hold his comeback down. I love how he at least attempts to hold his temper down in front of the cameras; he always fails in the end though.

"I was just saying _Kyle_," He spits out my name as if it was a curse, "That last night was the last of the first five nights and that now you had to choose your room mate that you'll be with for five days."

Woohoo. That's easy. Anyone but Craig, preferably-

"You have to send me your requests by 5pm and then I'll be able to chose by your preferences by 7pm" I can tell that he's already said this before. He looks bored and frustrated. He hates explaining things twice. Without waiting for my reply the screen turns off automatically, leaving no sign of fat anywhere.

So. I had the whole day to choose huh?

Thinking of who I wanted to be with was easy; the problem was would I request it? Our relationship has really improved and there were hardly anymore uncomfortable or awkward moments. But was I being too pushy to want to be his roommate?

I lean against the large window that I was staring out through, sighing onto the perfect glass. My reflection copies my movements and I can see for myself how pathetic I looked.

Maybe I should just be happy with being with anyone, if it wasn't Craig.

"Kyle?"

My name is called in a silent room by a familiar gentle voice, brining my mind out of my thoughts. I look up and see Stan, smiling in a slight mocking manner.

"You really _do_ love that window don't you?" He says, sitting down on the window ledge, facing me. I smirk lightly at him.

"Yeah, I'm planning to marry it. You wanna be my best man?" Yup, I can say sarcastic jokes to him now. Great improvement. He lets out a short laugh and I can't help but chuckle as well. When our laughter stops, the silence that fills the room is ear numbing. There was no one here now, only us.

I lift my gaze from the glass to have a glance at Stan, moving subtly enough that he doesn't notice. My heart jumps slightly when my eyes meet his. Not coincidently either, he seems to have been looking at me the whole time. The blood in my veins race to my face, but I try to hold them down before the finish line. He doesn't change his expression though. He keeps it steady on me, with a deep expression I can't really read.

"Kyle?"

"Huh!" Caught by his cautious tone I burst out loudly. Embarrassed with my own unnecessarily loud voice the blush enters my cheeks. Stan looks at me with a blank and confused look, his deep expression gone and then replaced by his usual relaxed gentle smile.

"Nothing. It's just. Have you chosen your roommate yet?" He looks away from me and forces his gaze out the window.

"Nuh, not exactly" I say honestly. He nods at his reflection on the window.

"Yeah, me neither"

Silence comes after the conversation, and a slightly awkward one of that. I move uncomfortably in my spot, trying to find a nice comfy area on the glass.

"Hey Kyle, I was just wondering-" his voice comes out hesitantly and I stop shifting my shoulders, looking at him with curiosity. "-If you wanted to be with me, as a roommate" he rushes the last words out, but I get stuck processing his last words. _Huh?_

"I mean that, if you don't mind, I would send in my request as you and-" His words come out faster than ever, and I feel my heart beating equally as fast.

"I would send in my request as you" I finish his sentence quietly for him. He turns and smiles at me hopefully but also doubtfully. Despite my overflowing happiness I also feel guilt swim in the pits of my stomach. With his uncertainty towards the idea, or more like my reaction towards the idea, makes me realise how much lack of confidence he has towards me, how much doubt lingers in him. And I feel terrible knowing it's my fault.

"That would be awesome" I smile at him, as widely and sincerely as possible, hoping that he'll understand that it's my true feeling.

We all gather around the television, waiting for it to turn on and show an unpleasant human-like pig, or a pig-like human. It has been two hours since we put in our requests; about time he told us who we were with.

Sending our requests was done privately, one by one. I don't know who the others requested for, only Stan's, since we agreed to request for each other. I'm pretty confident that we would get our requests. I can't think of anyone who would want to be with me, except Tweek, but I don't think he would request me since I think he's trying to gain more confidence in himself during his time here through developing independence. And I think Kenny would have the decency not to request Stan since he knows that I'm here to get things sorted out with him.

The television screen finally turns on, Cartman failing to hide a snigger under his business-like smile.

"About time fatass!" I shout out, crossing my arms on my chest showing my frustration towards his tardiness.

"Shut up you little Jew fag!" His business smile instantly drops, turning into a scowl, but then easily moving back into his ugly snigger. The mischievous and plotting smile makes my insides twirl in disgust.

"So you all sent in your requests and I'm here to announce your roommates for the next five days. Remember, at the end of the five days someone would be eliminated before you chose your next roommates" I tap my feet on the floor impatiently. Everyone else seems relaxed but I can't help but feel slight anxiety linger inside of me.

"Firstly, Tweek and Butters" He says reading off a piece of paper. I'm not surprised with the couple. The two became close over the past few days.

"Next is Kenny and Stan" Huh? "And last is Kyle and Craig"

"What?" My heart drops as I stare wide-eyed at Cartman on the screen. I can see out of my eyes that Stan had a similar shocked expression. "You said that you'd choose through our requests!" I can't believe that son of a bitch. His lips curl up, wider and more satisfying, looking at my reaction.

"But I did, didn't I?"

"What?"

"Of course I couldn't give what all of you wanted because some of your requests clashed, but, I did answer your preferences" He raises his eyebrow, waiting for me to reply. But I'm lost for words. He reads my expression and lets out a last smirk before turning the screen off, leaving me dead on the spot.

I can't believe it. Five nights with Craig Tucker.

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><p><strong>A.N-You wanna know a secret? I still don't have a plan for this story, that's why it's so all over the place. I was reading over it and thinking "What the **". But I have a heading, so yeah. Another secret is the first scene I came up with before writing this story was Craig pinning Kyle's wrist against the wall scene.<strong>

**I have school holidays now so hopefully, faster update. I have more stories that I want to write about but I'll try not to give in to temptation:)**

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N- Yay for fast(er) update! Thank you for all your lovely reviews! I wanted to reply but I couldn't stop writing this chapter. But unfortunately I wanted to punch myself while reading over it. I hope you guys don't hate it. Please enjoy!**

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><p>I sigh deeply into the pillow I was grinding my head into with frustration. Stress and aggravation were violating my mind and I just sit there on the couch, hugging the large pillow with my thighs to my chest. My head feels like it's a shrivelled up balloon, tired and empty, and the quiet sound of the television doesn't really help to ease my mind<p>

"What should I do Kenny?" The hopeless plead breathes out my mouth, more towards myself than to the blond boy sitting next to me.

"Just pin him down, violate his mouth and scrape his clothes off. Most simplest solution." He says nonchalantly, factually, as if it was the easiest thing to do in the whole world. All I could do was gape up at him with disbelief and slight horror. He notices my mouth opening and closing, lost in words and he raises his eyebrows in a troubled and bored way.

"Honestly man, I don't know why you haven't done it already. He would love it. Hell, I know I'd love it if you pinned me to the ground. Just do it man. You'd be happy, he'd be happy, everyone would be happy!"

"Dude!"

"What?"

"I'm talking about Craig!"

He shuts his mouth and stops dead in his spot and breathes out a long and awkward "Ohhh".

I eye him challengingly, still disgusted and embarrassed with his idea. Keeping his eyes on the television, he shrugs slightly with resignation.

"Just kick him in the balls then"

"Dude, he does like, Aikido or some shit. He'd pull my arms out before I could even step on his toes." The spinning and grinding sensation when he elegantly twisted my arms around my back the other night still lingers there.

"Then just cope with him. Dude, he can't be that bad"

"Not that bad?" I throw the pillow to the other side of the couch, glaring at Kenny who jumps his eyes at me with surprise.

"Dude, you know what he was like yesterday?" Leaning into him on all fours, anger simmering in my eyes, he leans back away from me with an anxious and worried expression.

_Yesterday when we found out our roommates my mind logged out for a few seconds. When my mind did log back in my brain went on flames with anger and I stormed to the kitchen, remembering it was my turn for cooking dinner. I was on fire, cooking the spiciest curry ever known to mankind. I soon regretted it when it was time to eat the curry though. Craig was practically immune to the spicy stuff while I couldn't even stand the slightest bit of chilli. It did a good job of cooling my mind though, which was good. _

_Sometime between dinner and bed I decided that the only way to live through the nights with Craig was to betray my hot-blooded nature and ignore his presence. I thought I had a good chance of it as long as he kept his smartass mouth shut. _

_When I entered our bedroom, mind set for 'I didn't have a roommate. I had my own single room' somehow, his presence seemed stronger than ever. He sat on his bed cross-legged with earphones in his ears looking up towards me boringly. I knotted my eyebrows together with frustration as I turned my face away from him. I bit on my lip firmly when I heard a light smirk come from his direction. _

_The pain from my throbbing lip helped me put my mind off the other existence in the room. I headed for my box to dish out the pair of shorts and the shirt I used as pyjamas. I paused my hands tugged on the hem of my shirt, ready to change, when I felt an uncomfortable shiver run down my spine. Turning my head, forgetting that I was meant to ignore the other existence in the room, my eyes were locked in with Craig's. He was still sitting on his bed with the same manner, bored looking and staring down at me. The only difference was that he had his earphones out. _

"_Craig, do you mind? I'm trying to change" I spat out at him bitterly and strongly enough that was meant to make him look away. But he didn't move a muscle._

"_I'm not stopping you" His expression didn't change, keeping it unreadable and emotionless as ever. _

"_Well, can you fucking look away? I'd rather change without you shooting out laser-beams in my back." _

"_Why should I listen to you?"_

_I lost my voice at that simple comment. That arrogant bastard wasn't going to be pushed around._

_Giving up, I turned my back to him and pulled my shirt over my head as fast as I could. But with the eyes still on my back it was hard to keep my hands steady without tangling the fabric while taking it off. _

I glare at Kenny as he laughs at my small story about what happened last night. What was so fucking hilarious about me tumbling over while trying to get changed in front of an expressionless raven?

"Shut the fuck up Kenny!"

"Oh yeah, sorry it's just-" He forces down a few gulps of air before getting rid of the laughter. After he succeeds in ceasing his fit, he looks up at me mockingly with his eyes shining with tears. "Dude, you forgot the ultimate Craig rule: you can't order him or make him do anything by simply telling him to do so."

I purse my lips together and sink back into my area of the couch, acknowledging what he just said.

"I know that, it's just that, I dunno, my nature to boss people around I guess" He crackles again at my statement.

"Yeah, no shit!" He yelps out a chuckle when I jab him in the shoulder. God, I wish I had a stronger punch.

I guess seeking Kenny for advice wasn't a very wise choice. As much as he's a dear friend and can be really comforting when we wants to be, most of the time he rather enjoys making a joke. Maybe it's his way of saying it's not a big deal. And maybe he's right. But I don't think I'll be able to handle the next few days with that asshole if it takes this much pressure.

As soon as we stop talking the television screen switches onto the hideous features of Eric Cartman and Kenny and I jolt in our spots from the revolting surprise.

"Ah, Jew! Just who I was looking for."

"What do you want now fatass?" I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at him. I didn't want to see his face for at least another 32 hours.

"Yes, well Kyle, you remember how I said that after every five days the person with the highest points gets to make the person with the lowest points do whatever they want?" Oh no, I don't like where this is heading.

"No. I don't think you said anything like that fatty" Actually, I completely remember every singlenword he said.

"Well I did" He bursts out. "And it turns out _Kyle _that you're the one with the highest points and that Craig is the one with the lowest"

"What_?"_ I look at him with disbelief but I can feel my insides begin to rattle in excitement.

"You heard me Shrimpy" His tone is half annoyed and half bored. He's totally unsatisfied with the result. From the tone of his voice I thought that he was going to say that _I_ was the one with the lowest points but- I can feel my heart dance with pleasure and my mouth curl up into a horrible smile. I don't notice the screen turn of. I don't notice Kenny gaping at me with worry. I actually couldn't care right now.

I could order Craig fucking Tucker to do what ever I want. And he's gonna have hell to pay.

XXX

The rest of the day went by swimmingly. I was humming with joy most of the time, my mind preoccupied with the thoughts of what I should make Craig do. _Should I make him spin three times and make him bark? Should I make him lick my feet? Should I make him suck my balls? Or should I make him run around the woods naked for an hour? _Whatever I was going to make him do I was going to pull his poker face off with embarrassment and anger. By the way, I'm not going to make him suck my balls. Ew. I'm not as low as Cartman.

Word that I could order Craig went by fast. I received a few doubtful glances from people throughout the day. Stan looked the most worried, probably thinking that I'd be beaten up if I did anything of the kind to order the bastard around. But he forgot one thing: I had control over Tucker today.

"Kyle?"

"Wha-!" I miss my finger by a breath while cutting up some onions when an anxious voice calls up to me. It wasn't my turn to cook today, Tweek was, but he was terrified about using knives so I decided to help. After checking that my finger wasn't scratched I look up and see Stan looking down at me with his worried expression.

"You okay Stan?" I push myself into looking into his eyes, still kinda hard to do. He was looking down, but when he looks up to meet my gaze it's burning and I get the urge to look away.

"I know you're excited about giving an order to Craig but-" He nibbles on his bottom lip lightly before continuing. "I don't think you should make him do any drastic things, you know?"

"What, so I can't make him go swim laps in the lake in the middle of the night? Stan, this might be the first and last time I ever get to order him- hell, it might be the last time mankind could order him" Stan pulls back a bit, wrinkling his nose slightly.

"You were gonna make him do laps in the lake?"

I breathe out a short laugh "No, that was just an example"

"Oh"

We both stand there silent for a few seconds. Listening to Tweek panic around the kitchen. I hear a loud shriek and scattering pots and I turn around to see the matter only to be stopped by a firm grip on my arm. Stopped in the middle of turning, I try to look at Stan, the temperature of his palm is already sinking into my skin, moving into my veins and rushing through my body.

"I just don't think it's a good idea" His voice seems slightly desperate and his worrisome tone was making me anxious.

"Stan it's okay. It's just one stupid order." I try to calm him, and he nods, but lingers his hand on my arm for a moment longer before sliding it down and muttering a small 'sorry'. After giving a last quick glance towards him I hurry towards Tweek who was on all four on the ground staring at the scattered pots hopelessly.

As much as I want to listen to Stan, me, as prince stubborn, am not planning to be soft on Craig Tucker, but maybe I won't be as harsh.

XXX

By the time we finished eating dinner (Tweek and my marvellous vegetarian pasta which took three hours to make) I was getting a little nervous. Craig had been silent the whole time, not saying one word concerning my order, and to me that was even more menacing than being yelled at. I even considered making the order something pitiful, but the idea swang out of my curls as I shook my head at the wasteful thought.

I took extra time cleaning the plates up (which was my actual chore of the day, which Tweek helped to be fair) just to give me more time to regain my evil guts. And as I walk down the hall towards our room I can feel that most of it has come back.

With the excitement that came freshly back into me, I burst the door open and it flings hard, bashing into the other side of the wall. I flinch at the loud noise, but soon straighten my posture back up with unnecessary confidence.

"So, I'm guessing that you were born to make a dramatic entrance" Every single time when I opened the door I seem to be welcomed in by that monotone comment. "You don't have to torture the door every time you enter you know" Growling quietly at him I try to calm myself down, telling myself that I had the control over him tonight. The thought even makes me snigger.

With my evil smile his face seems to lift up with amusement and he gets up from his back into a sitting posture.

"So, what have you planned out for me Shorty? Just don't make it something unoriginal as swimming laps in the lake." I groan quietly in frustration and my cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment.

"Nuh uh! I'm considering something great! Something humiliating! Something that you'll hate!" Blood rushes to my brain and I can't control my loud and desperate sounding voice. He simply smirks at me, as I pant from yelling.

"Yeah? And what is it?" We stare at each other challengingly. Him keeping his smirk while I can only growl and glare at him. I'm not going to tell him that I haven't chosen anything yet.

"I'll tell you! Just, give me a minute to change" I turn my back on him to try and avoid his piercing eyes. But that doesn't really help since I can still feel his stare making holes in my back.

"Dude, look away"

He rays his eyebrows. "No"

"Goddamn it Craig just please look away!"

"No"

"Craig, look the fuck away and that's an _order_!" The words burst out of me before I can control my mouth. But when I focus my eyes back on him, I see to my delight that his smirk had gone and it was replaced by a glare. To my delight it was meant to be, but I felt myself freeze at the sudden change of expression.

"That's it? That's your magnificent order?" He says sarcastically, looking unimpressed.

"Y-Yeah"

He gets off his bed and takes a few steps in towards me, but it was enough for his face to come barely an inch from mine. When his shadow covers my face he breathes out heavily the word "Fine". Then he walks back onto his bed and crosses his legs, but this time, with his back on me.

Granted, I turn my back from him again and tear my shirt off. I would normally change one article of clothing at a time, but just to make the best out of the time without Craig staring at me I fling my shorts off as well, getting a nice feel of standing in nothing but my underpants. It's doesn't feel that great.

"You done yet Broflovski?" With Craig's voice my mind comes back to reality and I blush slightly when I look down at myself, standing in nothing but my underpants like a complete idiot.

"Wait a second" I wiggle through my pyjama bottoms and then slide my head and arms through the pyjama top, emitting a quick breath when my head makes it out the hole.

"Yeah I'm done"

He immediately swings around, looking annoyed as if he had just bitten on something hard and bitter. "You took your time. You know, just because you look like a girl doesn't mean you have to act like one"

I don't know what that short sentence did to me. Something in my head just cracked and my mouth opened, widely enough for anything to burst out like a canon.

"That's it!" Craig flinches his eyelids slightly at my loud voice. "_That's_ fucking _it_, Craig! I don't care why you hate me, how you hate me or _shit_! I've had it up to here with you!" I swing my hand up by my eye line, showing how high my anger was up to.

"I challenge you Craig! Tomorrow's canoe race! If _I_ win, you won't call me a girl anymore and you will listen to me when I ask you to do something!" When I finish, my shoulders rise and sink rapidly, my lungs desperate for air after the shouting.

"Fine" Craig is back to his usual emotionless expression and his monotone voice. He rests his elbows on his knees and leans in, looking up at me with a small challenging flame igniting in his cool eyes.

"But if _I_ win, you will never order me to do anything again" He finishes, and I nod, stiffly and heavily, more like a bob of movement.

"It's on Tucker"

I'm going to win the race tomorrow. I didn't need confidence in my strength or speed to believe that I was going to win. Because every single strand of anger, hatred and frustration towards Craig were weaved up together, making a glorious red cape, and my want to strike down the bastard had formed into a glimmering gold crown of confidence. And that's enough to make me feel positive. _I'm going to win tomorrow._

XXX

My eyes fling open energetically after a long night of angry sleep. I jolt my body up, my mind thinking "I woke up before Craig for once!" but as I did, his tall body jolted up as well, as if mirroring my movement. I shoot a glare towards him.

"Don't copy me"

"I didn't copy you" He glares back.

After the ten second staring contest we both jump out of bed and change our clothes in record time. Without waiting a second to take a breath we both race to the kitchen and force down a piece of fruit and a glass of orange juice. Again glaring at each other when we both finish at the same time. But we don't shout out any insults at each other. We just glue our eyes together and pant out breaths of aggravation.

"Hey, beautifuls! You two ready for the fun race today?"

We unglue our eyes from each other and glare towards Kenny who just entered the room with a bright smile.

"Yes!" Again, our voices shout out at the same time and we swing our glaring eyes back together.

"O-Kay…" I could hear Kenny shrug awkwardly but I don't care, until an idea comes to me.

"Kenny!" I walk up to him, ignoring Craig's existence for a moment "Can you be my partner for the race?" He looks at me surprisingly then his eyes change into a troubled colour.

"That's fine with me but-" He nods towards Craig.

"No, we don't have to be with roommates and I'm not going with him! I'm going to race him, and beat him. And I can't go with Stan because I have to win him on my own" Kenny looks at me bitterly at the last comment.

"So, what? Stan's qualified as a person and I'm not?" He pouts, and I sigh.

"You know what I mean Kenny. I just can't go with a person who's absolutely amazing at sports"

"And because I'm horrible at sports"

"Just shut up and go with me Kenny"

He groans lightly, but then wraps his arm around my shoulder and swings me around to face Craig.

"So who are you going to be with Tucker?" Kenny says with a mocking smile. Craig just simply narrows his eyes at him.

"I'll go with Tweek"

"Don't go with Tweek. He won't be able to stand the pressure racing me while sitting behind you" He looks down at me irritatingly, but thinks about my statement.

"Fine, I'll go with Butters"

"Fine"

He flips me his iconic finger and I return the gesture, with honour.

XXX

Okay, so the sun is brightly shining and the sky is cerulean blue. The temperature could rise up a bit but I guess it's okay.

We all line up against our canoes with our partners. Lifejackets strapped on, ready to get pushed into the water. But I won't, because I'll win, with Kenny. While Craig and I stand up straight digging glares of daggers into each other I hear the other four sigh tiredly, but it's Stan's particular breath that distracts me from scowling at Craig.

When he heard about the challenge between me and Craig he was so worried, especially about the conditions. He relaxed a bit when I told him that the conditions weren't really severe, that I would make him listen to me if I win and even if he'd win he'll only not listen to me, which he doesn't do now anyway. But the way he was so worried made me really confused.

"Just tell me, why did you do it?" He asked me after sighing deeply. I shrugged. I couldn't tell him it was because I got totally pissed off at his stupid comment.

"I- don't know" Is what came out quietly instead. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a sign I haven't seen in two years. My heart ached a bit at the gesture, because it told me how stupid I was acting. I mean, why was I acting so hot blooded against Craig Tucker? After that, my passion for the challenge died down for a while. But then, by the time I was getting my lifejacket on my blood had begun to boil again.

I give Stan an apologetic glance and he looks at me worryingly, but then seems to give up and nod at my gaze. A smile breaks the tension in my cheeks, and I regain my confidence. This race was going to be easy, even against that six foot tall Craig. Okay, maybe not that easy.

I hop into the front seat of the canoe as Kenny keeps it steady on the water, ready to dash and jump into the back seat when the race begins.

To win the race we had to do one lap around the lake, and of course come before Craig, and Butters. I take in a deep breath as Stan counts down from five. He won't be doing the race. He'll just be relaxing on the canoe with Tweek somewhere close to the finish line.

"Three…" My mind comes back into focus. "Two…" I grip harder onto the paddle. "One…" Gulp. "Zero!" Kenny runs the canoe deeper into the lake and jumps in, maybe faster, but with less force than Craig. Once I know that he's safely inside and ready to paddle, I dig my own into the heavy water. Kenny follows rhythmically. Awesome, we're in the inner side of the circle of the lake compared to the other pair. Great advantage!

"Come on Kenny!" I shout out back to him excitedly.

"Kyle you shouldn't get too excited. And you shouldn't paddle so fast, you'll ware out soon"

"I'm fine Ken!" And I really am. I think I could paddle like this for another hour!

XXX

"Told you so" I turn back to glare at Kenny, but even that's painful when the side of my stomach is cramping like a bitch and my lungs are desperate for air. Just to add to my frustration, Kenny looks absolutely fine, hardly breaking a breath. I was the one slowing us down. Fifteen minutes into the race and I'm already sweating like a pig.

"Maybe you should jump in the lake and calm yourself down. I'll do it with you"

"Fuck you Kenny. You only want to do that because you're bored. We don't have time for that!" I look up ahead and narrow my eyes exhaustingly, watching Craig and Butters turn into small blurry dots. I can hardly see them with my myopia. My back slightly itches from Kenny's sympathetic gaze on it and I sigh. "Let's just canoe Kenny."

Strangely, after forgetting about the race and focusing on simply ending the task, my paddling has become much more smoother and evenly rhythmic with Kenny's.

"Now, this is nicer isn't it?" He says while we sway through the water. I don't say anything but I agree. Everything is absolutely quiet, only the sound of moving water, which is barely audible can be heard. The waves of the water are very subtle and despite it being the middle of summer I can see that it would be much more cold than it seems; it itches me not to jump into it.

We finally reach one of the last bends of the lake and to my wonderful surprise it seems that we have caught up to Craig and Butters. My heart brightens up but then a suspicion rises in me. They don't seem tired, they don't seem like they have been paddling at all in fact. Were they just waiting for us on the bend? Butters looks at me then back at Craig worryingly, but Craig just sits there calmly, too calmly it even feels mocking. That bastard taking me lightly-

"Paddle faster Kenny! Overtake them!" I shout out, looking ahead to where Stan and Tweek were. I think I could make it to the end with full speed.

The tip of our canoe and their canoe line up, one over taking the other by an inch, then the other taking over, then the other again. If we kept our speed we may just be able to win the race. My panting comes to a near climax, not from exhaustion, but from the hope and chance of winning. But when the tip of our canoe is no more than ten yards away from the finishing line, Craig's canoe that was lining up next to ours begins to gather up speed. An instant thought comes to me as I watch them overtake us easily. _The whole time I thought I could beat him he wasn't going full speed. _All the excitement and hope in me seem to disappear as I watch their canoe reach the end.

Why did I believe that I could beat him? Me, the skinny little shrimp, winning a race to anyone; come to think of it, the mere idea of it was ridiculous. I simply sit there; my mind barely processes Tweek's voice announcing the obvious winner.

"Don't care about it Kyle. Races are shit boring anyways" Kenny's voice says quietly. But it doesn't help my dampened spirits. Then suddenly, I feel the whole canoe rock heavily side to side.

"What the hell?" I drop the paddle and clench to the sides of the canoe. Looking for the source of the rocking I turn back and see a smiling Kenny also holding the sides of his seat, pushing into one side after the other, swaying the canoe.

"Stop it Kenny!" I yell at him with panic, but he looks up at me with a mischievous smile and gives the canoe one last giant sway. And the whole thing tips over, bringing the both of us into the water.

I kick my legs desperately to reach for the surface for air, which is hardy necessary since the lifejacket does most of the job. When I do reach the surface I'm welcomed by the breaking crackle of Kenny. I growl at him laughing his ass off "What the fuck Kenny!"

He tries to reply, but fails while the water fights into his mouth when he opens it to shout out a laugh. I have to glare at him and wait for his laughter to die down before he could say anything.

Gasping a few breaths after laughing and spitting out some water Kenny smiles at me, brightly as ever. "See? Now that is what I call fun!"

My mind blanks out, and all I can do is stare at him. Then suddenly, everything I felt seems so stupid, being angry and frustrated all seems stupid. And I make a stupid grunt before I close my eyes and laugh, hysterically, and Kenny joins in. We both float there like two maniacs and laugh. But then suddenly, my body becomes heavy and I sink into the water. The water enters my mouth as I gasp for the air that wasn't there. Confused of why I was suddenly underwater, I feel my sides and find that the lifejacket wasn't there. I can't believe it; I actually slipped out of my lifejacket.

Panic rises within me, and although I'm meant to be able to swim, my legs and arms seem to be out of control. More water rushes into my mouth as I accidently gasp and when I kick out of desperateness for the surface a sharp pain shoots though my ankle. My mouth automatically burst open to yell and then waves of water breaks into my throat, burning through the pipe. The last bubbles of air in my lungs cough out.

I hopelessly gaze at the surface of the water; the light shining through is astonishingly beautiful. I don't struggle anymore; my throbbing leg and empty lungs won't let me. My mind begins to numb, and I give the bright surface one last glance before I give in to unconsciousness. But at that instant, the shining light on the water seems to flicker and the water around me flees away to give way to a pair of firm hands. The hands grab on to me, and before I know it, I'm released into the shining light, and held welcomingly inside warm strong arms.

"Kyle! Kyle! You okay? Kyle wake up!" A gentle, yet desperate voice calls my name, not letting me fall into a calm unconsciousness. I lift my heavy eyelids in response to the voice, my vision is blurry and I can't really see my saviour's face, but I can hear him sigh in relief.

"…Stan?" My vision comes back as I say the voice's owner, slowly and carefully. And I can see him smile, Stan's smile, his relieved and gorgeously warming smile. Before I could completely sink in his smile, I'm suddenly pulled against a warm and strong chest. It takes me a moment to processes that I was being held into a securing hug. My freezing body instantly revives its temperature, higher than ever, and my heart begins to pump hysterically. I don't even have the strength to hide it, but he doesn't seem to notice, even when my thumping heart is held against his with only the thin walls of our bodies dividing them apart. The only thing that seems to matter to him right now is that I was in his arms, breathing. I bite my lip and curse my guilty feeling that simmers in the pit of my stomach, and hesitantly hug him back.

When I'm pulled back onto the ground, I'm welcomed back by a strong hug from Kenny, or more like an attack from Kenny. He doesn't seem to notice my joints crack in his arms as he apologises over and over again for tipping the canoe. Tweek also comes and hugs me from behind and Butters joins in with us, trapping me in their wailing group hug. To be completely honest, it's kinda annoying.

I try to avoid their cries by looking straight ahead and then my heart freezes when my eyes land on Craig. He stands there, not close to us, and just stares straight at me with his usual unreadable expression. Well, not exactly his usual expression. His eyebrows are knotted together and his lips are pierced into a straight line; there seems to be some kind of emotion there, but I still can't read it. I don't let my eyes wonder too long around him though.

When I'm released by Kenny's firm grip, Stan wraps a soft towel around me and Tweek leads me into the house. Still saying that he thought that I was going to die. The simple thought of it stresses me out. I'm placed onto the sofa with a cup of warm coco provided by Butters. Kenny comes with dry clothes and begins to strip me. I have to punch him and shout that I could change myself and that I wasn't a fucking princess to make him stop.

Despite it being one of the most luxurious services I could ever have, the few hours of them worrying about me and providing me with more blankets and warm drinks completely wore me out. Now I just stare at the television with a pout, boiling in the layers of blankets. The newscaster announces that it's 10pm and I can finally get out of here, saying that it's time for bed.

I yawn while walking into the bedroom, half praising myself that I didn't make a dramatic entrance for the first time with Craig. But apparently, my short yawn was enough to catch Craig's attention. He's lying on his bed listening to music, as always, but takes the earphones out as I walk by to my bed.

"Did you hurt your ankle?" He says, monotonously as usual.

I didn't really process his words, wasn't really paying attention to him. "Huh?"

He looks at my curious expression annoyingly, flinching his eyebrow. "Does your ankle hurt?" It was more like a statement than a question.

"Nuh. Not really" I look down at my left foot and tap it on the ground a few times lightly. It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't throbbing.

"That's good"

_Huh? _I gape up at him disbelievingly. He was still staring at me, a little bitterness added to his annoyed expression this time. _Did he just say that it's good that I wasnt hurt?_ He seems to read my thoughts and looks away from me, moving his gaze onto the ceiling.

"I don't want to see you limping. It'll be an eyesore." He says simply. _Oh, that makes sense._

"It's not like my whole existence is already an eyesore to you anyway" I snigger at him. But to my surprise he doesn't snigger back. He continues to gaze at the ceiling, but his eyes seem to look through it, somewhere far ahead. I feel a little uneasy and look away, bringing my eyes to my own part of the ceiling.

"You're right." He says quietly, and I turn my head back to face him again. He was looking at me again with the smallest smile I've ever seen a person have. His voice doesn't have the usual mocking tone in it, it barely sounds like it was directed at me. And then his mouth moves slightly again. "You are an eyesore"

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- I should really read over my stuff more than once. I hope that chapter wasn't as horrible as I thought it was. I think the next chapter will have more Stan, and a bit of Butters too. Until then, ciao! p.s Are my chapters too long?<br>**


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N-Another fastish update! Thanks to all the lovelies who read/reviewed! I am so happy that some of you like Cryle, but I can understand how some of you detest the idea of the pairing. Don't get me wrong, I haven't chosen who Kyle will be with. **

**Anyway here's more Stan (and a bit of Butters) as I promised! I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the 'Blare witch Project' or 'Dust in the wind'. **

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><p>Did I mention that time flies by here? Even when you're stuck with a douchebag as a roommate? Well, it does. And I don't know if I'm glad or relieved to say that tomorrow we'll all be changing roommates, if we request it, which <em>I<em> definitely will. I walk aimlessly around the halls of the circular house, bored out of my wits. But then a sudden realisation comes to mind and I stop in my spot.

Tomorrow is the fifth day, which means that _someone_ will be eliminated from the house.

XXX

This time of day, when the sky begins to dye into a pinkish, purplish colour, people tend to do their own things. Stan went to fetch some firewood, in the middle of summer; I guess it's one of those manly man things strong men do that I don't really understand. Tweek is digging his nose into a coffee encyclopaedia on the lounge room couch next to Kenny, who's flipping through random television shows ("It's in colour!" he says. Fuck yeah, woohoo.). That black haired son of a bitch with the name of Craig Tucker is doing I-don't-give-a-flying-fuck.

Lost in what to do, I continue to walk around the house, hoping to find something adventurous and exciting, like a wardrobe that'll take me to a different world. I bob my head and swing my red hair in pure boredom, suddenly getting the urge to sing in a good old classic rock song.

As I walk around the empty hallway, lost in what to do I hear a quiet voice giggling and talking to nothing in particular. I pop my head out of the curved wall, trying not to get noticed by the voice. Butters, with one of the brightest smiles and the cutest tinge of pink in his cheeks, was talking on the house phone.

We are allowed to use the house phone for five minutes every three days, but I haven't seen anyone use it yet. I watch the blond talk into the phone. Though none of the words seem to be important, the conversation he's havening makes me feel like he's having one of the most precious conversations someone could ever have.

When he puts the phone down with an "I love you too" I come out of hiding, feeling slightly awkward. "Was that your boyfriend?" I ask him, a light flush creeping up my neck with the question. He looks up at me with a short surprise then smiles warmly, then giggles before answering.

"Yeah, he said that he was watching me all the time but he still missed me" I can see his mind wondering off as he speaks. I can't help but feel a little jealous of him. He's been dating his present boyfriend for nearly five years and he's as happy as ever. I mean, how _can't_ I be a little jealous while I'm trying to get over a crush in order to even be friends with the person I like?

"Oh, gee- is there something wrong Kyle?" A warm hand rests on my shoulder, which brings me back to reality as concerned bright blue eyes stare into me.

"Yeah, yeah- umm, I was just wondering what it feels like to, umm" I cut off my sentence, suddenly feeling embarrassed with what I was going to say. The blue eyes move back into its usual stance, about three inches higher than mine. "What it feels like to love someone and know that that person loves you back" I sprint the words out my mouth as fast as I could, closing my eyes as if waiting for an explosion. _Oh god. That sounded so gay._ The sound of my heart beat drums in my ear with embarrassment and I open an eye slowly to see the blonde's reaction.

He looks at me blankly for a short second then spills a grand smile and his eyes beam brighter than usual (if that's possible). I feel like a fucking deer caught in headlights the way I'm dumbstruck with his shining expression.

"Oh Kyle, you're so cute!" I don't have time to brace myself before he picks me up into his warm accepting hug. My face burns past my ears and I feel like the new kid in school who's being caressed and kissed by his wonderful mother in front of a crowd. By the time he puts me down most of the blood has run up to my head and made me dizzy, wobbling in my spot.

"Why do you ask?" He asks keeping his caring smile.

"Umm no, no particular reason! Just curious, you know?" Gah, I sound so pathetic. But Butters just nods acceptingly at me. I somehow think he knows I have a secret reason but he's not going to bug me to tell him. I like that about Butters.

"I guess it's one of the best feelings a person could have you know? It gives you warmth and security even when you can feel nothing but despair and sorrow. Even when you wake up screaming in the middle of the night, even if he's not right there next to you, you know that he's always beside you. I guess in that way, you can't really ever _only_ feel despair and sorrow, I guess." He begins and ends with the same pure and gentle smile. The amazing thing about him is he says all his words without shame or embarrassment; he says his words with confidence and honesty, which makes his words sound wise and true. I bet if anyone else said anything like that I'd laugh and say that it's totally gay, but when he says it, the words sink directly into my heart. I don't know if I want to laugh or if I want to cry. But then all the confusing and tangled up feelings seem to disappear when a heavy hand rests on my head. I look up and Butters grins down at me.

"Don't worry Kyle. You'll understand soon enough" He says reassuringly and scuffles my hair together with his hand. My cheeks flush deep red and I show my grinding teeth at him embarrassingly. He treats me like I'm his little brother or something.

"Shut up Butters" I fling his hand off my head and his grin falls a bit as I turn my back on him. "But thanks..."

I can feel his smile beam behind me as I dash away from him, my cheeks still burning from awkward embarrassment.

XXX

"Where's Kenny?" I ask Tweek, who was now sitting on the couch alone. I came to the lounge room to harass Kenny off the television in order to make dinner. It was his duty of the day anyway.

He flings his head up at me when he hears my voice. His eyelids flatter for a second, the way he does when he is searching for something in his head, then a sudden light emits in his eyes. "He went to make dinner!" He half bursts it out.

"Huh? I didn't see him in the kitchen."

He looks at me weirdly, with slight confusion. "Mmgh- don't you know, Kyle? We're having dinner by the lake tonight"

I think through all the conversations we had during a day and one particular one does come to mind, but I pretend to be oblivious.

"Well, ngh- we all decided to camp outside tonight-" Tweek slightly twitches at the word 'camp' as he explains. "And so Kenny decided to make a barbeque for dinner. N-So he should be at the lake preparing the barbeque"

Aha. All the memories are coming back to me now. Earlier today Kenny was salvaging inside the storeroom and found a camping kit with a humongous tent, big enough for all the six of us to fit in. We also found some marshmallows and skewers and decided that we would all camp out tonight together.

"Aren't we having a bonfire as well?" I ask him and he gasps loudly with fear.

"Just a small one!" He shrieks slightly. So that explains why Stan was out collecting firewood. It wasn't just his manly-man hobby.

I look around the room with only one last curiosity. "Where's Craig?"

"He's getting the tent up, I think. Gah! I don't know! Jesus!" I rub his back gently to calm him down which he reacts to instantly. My mind drifts off into thought as he relaxes with my strokes.

_Why should I ask Tweek about him anyway? I don't care about him._

XXX

I walk through the woods to the lake. The sun has begun to sink and the pink in the sky has faded into a dark blue. Thousands of tiny lights have joined the first star in the darkening sky and although it beautifully guides my way through the woods, the growing shadows of the trees are beginning to creep me out. My senses are beginning to catch every detailed sound and movement, which is not helping my thumping heart to relax. I'm not afraid of the dark or anything, but I kinda wished that I left the house with Tweek and Butters earlier. I think part of my- _consciousness_ towards the dark woods is coming from watching the Blare Witch Project last night. It didn't seem scary then but it's coming to haunt me now (mental note: don't watch the Blare Witch Project before camping).

The sound of my footsteps seems to echo in my head, much louder than usual. Then I hear a loud crack and I freeze in my spot, stopping my breath after a sharp gasp. When I don't hear any more noises, I look down and see that I had just stepped on a dry twig. I sigh out a quiet and breathless laughter at my own stupidity. But then a sudden grinding sound swifts through the darkness and I drop dead in my laughter. My lungs stop operating and I don't move a muscle as I concentrate all my senses onto that one sound. _It wasn't me this time was it?_ Then the same dark grinding sound comes again; my feet are secure on the ground so it couldn't be me. The sound comes again repetitively and it seems to be becoming louder. My eyes focuses on the dark area were the sound seems to be loudest and my heart jumps when I see a shadow moving, moving towards me. I dare to move my feet, not wanting to cause any noise and I close my eyelids tightly together, bracing myself to whatever was coming. The noise seems to gather speed as it comes nearer and I can tell that it has found me. I bite my lip and purse my eyelids together even tighter, and then the sound only seems like a foot from me.

"Kyle!" My eyes fling open as a firm hand rustles my shoulder lightly. My lungs forces large breaths in and out, making me pant as my eyes begin to focus on my surroundings.

"Stan?" His jet-black hair was mixing into the darkness but I could make out his worried expression even without the light. "What are you doing here?" My heart continues to skip beats while trying to calm down, but Stan's face inches away from mine doesn't really help. He quickly ducks his face away from mine when I ask him, which helps me gain my breath back.

"I was just gathering more firewood" He clacks the woods in his arms together for attention and I can't help but chuckle a bit.

"Again? Stan, by the way you're gathering wood I would say that it has become your little hobby"

"Yeah, well it is fun. I love gathering some nice wood" He laughs out as well. But honestly, I do not find anything fun in looking for twigs, especially in the dark. I look down at my feet and spot the twig that I just stepped on a minute ago. I pick it up with my two fingers and examine it. It wasn't completely snapped in half; well it was, but the two pieces were joined together by a thin strand of skin, the one half dangling by the other half between my fingers.

"How about this one?" I show the pathetic twig to Stan and snort at it. It was such a small twig, too skinny; it looks useless and pathetic as it dangles hopelessly from my fingers.

"It's perfect." He says gently, and I gape up at him in disbelief. He was smiling at me. I was caught in his eyes for a second before he coughed and rustled the wood in his arms to indicate me to put the useless twig on the pile. I quickly move my gaze and place the twig on the pile and he nods with another small cough and bobs his head towards the trees.

"Shall we go then?" I try to nod my head to agree but it twirls around in a confused way, my red hair flapping into my face. I'm not sure if he understood my crazy gesture but he nods again and we begin to head to the lake.

As we walk through the dark woods I begin to notice a red light shining energetically through the trees. I narrow my eyes and try to determine what it is but it's not until we're fully exposed to it that I understand what it is. It was a bonfire, blazing miraculously with all shades of orange, red and yellow. It's only a small one, but its reflection on the calm lake makes it seem much more wild and dramatic than it actually is. It was beautiful.

"Did you gather all those wood?" I ask Stan who was looking at my dumbstruck expression satisfyingly.

"Sweet huh? That's three hours worth of gathering wood." He smiles proudly, but with a tinge of bashfulness. A natural smile breaks my mouth at his adorable smile. I flinch at my own thoughts as warmth creeps to my cheeks. _Goddamn it, adorable? I have to stop these thoughts! _

"Ky-le!" I gasp when Kenny pops out from behind the fire. His face was covered in soot and his hair was dyed black from working by the fire. He seems to notices my disgusted expression and runs towards me with his arms open wide, indicating for a hug. I take a step back as he comes forward and turn around to make a dash for it when he comes only a few feet away from me.

"Get the fuck away from me Kenny!" I shriek as I run away from the dirty child.

"Aww, come on Kyle! Give the poor boy a hug!" He laughs and chases me around in circles, until I have no choice but to hide behind Stan. I clench on the back of Stan's shirt, desperate to get away from Kenny. Stan laughs at us as we stair at each other divided by Stan's tall figure, me with a cautious glare and him with a playful snigger.

"Evening govna'! Would you mind if I get a hold on to the little boy behind your back please?" Kenny asks Stan innocently with a fake English accent.

"No Kenny. I think you should go back to sweeping the soot" Stan replies with a chuckle. I glare defensively at Kenny as he pouts and walk back to the fire.

"You okay there, Kyle?" My heart jumps and I instantly glue my eyes off Kenny to gaze up at Stan, who was looking at me with a slightly troubled smile. His expression confuses me for a bit and I lose myself in his eyes, until I notice that my small hands were still clenched onto his shirt and I immediately fling them off, scarlet staining my cheeks again.

"Sorry" I squeeze out between my pursed lips, trying to avoid his gaze. He laughs lightly and pats my hair softly.

"It's okay. Come on, lets get these back to the fire." He rustles the wood in his arms and I nod embarrassingly, still trying to hide my blush. _Why is it that everyone acts as if I'm a three year old?_

XXX

"What's this?" Craig says coolly, looking at the broken twig that I found. I tense my cheeks and grind my teeth, narrowing my eyes at him. He didn't comment any other twigs or pieces of wood Stan gave him. He just had to comment on that one didn't he?

"I found it" My words spit out at him bitterly and he looks up at me and cocks his eyebrows, then looks back at the twig.

"It's small, thin and pathetic. I guess it suits you." I growl at his comment and expressionless face.

"Then don't use it!" I snatch for the poor twig but he dodges my grip.

"I can still poke the fire with it" He looks down at me, his expression still unreadable. Then he looks away to the fire and sticks the twig in it, wait for a second to the tip to inflame, then takes it out and begins to write something on a rock. I look over to see what he was writing. 'Kyle is gay' I grunt bitterly and kick him off his sitting rock then stump away from him aggressively.

I walk to the other side of the fire and drop myself next to Tweek who looks at me, a little startled.

"Jesus! Are okay Kyle?" Tweek asks me, shaking a little harder than usual. I'm guessing it's from the close fire.

"No. Your b- _Craig_, " I say his name so Tweek doesn't get confused at the word 'boyfriend' again. "Is being a complete asshole. _Again_" The flame rustles at my angry tone, probably portraying my inner feelings.

Tweek looks at me, dropping his eyebrows in a troubled way. "Craig isn't that bad"

I jerk my head towards the blond in surprise and he jolts back from me in return. I gaze at him in disbelief then sigh after a second of sinking his words in.

"That's what Kenny said too" Tweek drops his tensed shoulders when my tone isn't aggressive anymore.

"I don't think Craig's bad either!" Butter pops his head behind Tweek to look at me. "In fact, I think he's really nice" Another sigh escapes my mouth.

"No Butters, you're the nice one" His eyes lights up at my comment and he gazes at me with a wide smile.

"Gee, you really think so Kyle?" I nod roughly at the fire and he bobs his head back behind Tweek. _Craig Tucker nice? And the last time I checked pigs could fly. _

Tweek frowns at my tired expression. "Kyle, Craig really isn't that bad. Ngh- maybe you should get to know him better?" I roll my head heavily to look at him; my mouth half open bitterly and I furrow my eyebrows deeply, all the wrinkles gathering to the bridge of my nose in disgust. He panics at my distasteful expression and looks around for help.

"Tweek is right Kyle" Butters pops his head out from behind Tweek again. "You shouldn't dislike someone before you try to like him" My mind blanks out for a second but then comes back like a switch. _Try to like Craig?_

"Ain't gonna happen" I say factually, "We're changing roommates tomorrow anyway. There's no need to get to know him" _Yeah, that's right. _I reassure myself. And as long as I don't request for Craig (because I don't think he'll request for me) I won't be with him anymore. I gaze into fire as it elegantly dances in its spot, releasing beautiful flares into the darkening sky.

XXX

Out of all the nights of being here I can definitely say that tonight is one of the best of them by far. Being out in the wilderness instead of being cramped up inside gives a sense of mental liberty, that we could laugh as loud as our throats would let us or run around spontaneously and shout at each other. Kenny had burnt most of the food (naturally since he chucked the food senselessly into the fire. We had to use long twigs to get them out) but it seamed to be one of the best meals I've ever had.

When I yelled at Kenny again to do something with the soot on his face he grinned and jumped into the lake, which would have been all fine if he hadn't dragged me into the freezing water as well. We both had to dry our clothes by the fire while shivering wet, waiting for them to dry in nothing but our boxers. I cursed at Kenny and he thanked me back. While we were sitting naked side by side we had nothing to do but complain at each other while Butters and Tweek tried to comfort us by serving us more blackened potatoes. Stan and Craig went to gather more wood for the fire while our clothes dried. I didn't notice we were running out of firewood.

Once our clothes were dry enough to wear, Kenny came up with the wonderful idea to play charades. It wasn't really fun since I didn't know any of the trends and Kenny seemed to be disappointed in us, sighing dramatically when we couldn't guess any of his 'classic' porn movies. We ended up agreeing that is was one of the gayest games ever and stopped after the first few rounds. Our energy had died down by the time we settled down around the fire after the game, staring at the flames in silence. And that's where we end up now, staring into the twirling flames with unimpressed amusement.

"The flames are so lively and beautiful…" Butters says dreamily, and we all groan in agree. Then something snaps in me, which jolts me back into reality. My legs spring me up automatically, catching everyone's attention.

"Guys! Wake up!" I spread my arms and twirl my body around dramatically so everyone could see. "Guys. What are we doing! Sitting here, staring into the flames dreamily like drug addicts!" I scoop up the can of coke that was sitting on the ground and force a few burning gulps through my throat. "We should be celebrating! We're young and free! And attractive" I add on and wink at one of the guys gaping at me, but don't really acknowledge who. I spin around again with the can spilling some of its contents around. "I mean, dude! Tomorrow, one of us is going to be eliminated. It could be any of you guys or it could be me, I don't know! But tonight-" I pause to take another gulp of the disgusting soft drink and gasp out after emptying the can, wiping the small drops off my lips. "Is going to be the last night of one of us here. And I am not going to sit down and waste it." When I'm finished I'm honoured with a cheer from Kenny, a quiet applaud of clapping from Butters and Tweek and a stomach twirling laugh from Stan; even Craig looks at me with an approving smirk. I smile back at everyone and bow with my hand to my chest, like the gentleman I am. I look up and can't help but snigger sheepishly at my own sarcasm.

"Did someone spike Kyle's drinks?" A voice laughs out as I grab another can to drink, not really paying attention to my surroundings.

"Sorry, my bad!" I hear Kenny shout out with a wave in the air. I know he's joking because I don't taste any alcohol in my drinks, but it is true that I am feeling a little out of my self. I sip on the new can and snigger mischievously into the opening when I come up with an idea. I drop my self next to the blond boy and wrap my arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer into my chest.

"If you're the one who did it-" I whisper seductively into his ear with a heavy breath. "Pay for it…" He whips his head around to face me, his face brightly red with excited panic and I welcome him with a massive burp in his face.

"Oh, Fuck!" He jumps up and wipes his face desperate to get the disgusting breath off his face. I watch him and crackle hysterically as he continues to wipe his face. "Dude! That's gross!" He looks at me bitterly and walks over to place himself between the large space between Stan and Craig, giving his face a last strong wipe. I rest my head on Tweek's shoulder, still suffering from the intense laughter.

"That's what you get for being a pervert Kenny!" He shoots me a glare and I can't stop another round of laughter crackle out of me.

"Gah! Kyle, I think you're drunk." Tweek says, looking down on me with worry in his eyes as well as a tinge of scarlet in his cheeks. I giggle at his cute expression.

"Don't be silly Tweek, there's no alcohol here." After my laughter is gone, sudden fatigue comes over me. I snuggle my face into Tweek's shoulder with a wide smile, cuddling myself into him until I find a comfortable spot.

XXX

I wake up with a fling of my eyes open and find myself in a pitch-dark tent, squished in by two large bodies. I don't know what happened or when I fell asleep but it shouldn't have been so long ago considering the darkness. Loud snores and muttering came into my night sensitive ears and I try to flip on my side to make myself more comfortable in my spot. My hands relax by my face and when I stare at them all the snores and muttering seems to die down, leaving me in utter silence. Then my mind empties out thoughts and my words of earlier in the night come into my head.

Tomorrow someone is going to be eliminated, and it could be anyone.

My heart slightly shrinks at the thought. With the amount of fun I had tonight I don't want anyone to go.

I close my eyes and sigh deeply into my hands, trying to close off my thoughts to sleep. But then a faint noise swifts through the air and I fling my eyes open in surprise. I concentrate all my senses to my hearing, waiting cautiously for the same sound. When nothing comes and the darkness stays quiet, I relax my tensed body, telling myself that I was just hearing things and close my eyes to go to sleep. But the minute I close my eyes the same sound quietly echoes again and I swing my eyes open again. It was a deep sound, but also bouncy, like the bounce after plucking a string. The sound comes again, but this time it bounces repetitively, the deep sound somewhat adjusting to a certain pitch. That's when I notice that the sound wasn't natural and I sit my body up and look around cautiously. Nobody had woken up by my sudden movement, but when I count the lying bodies I notice that they are only four. _Who's missing?_ I ask myself with a dazing mind and then the same deep bouncing sound comes and wakes me up. It came from outside of the tent and I look towards the exit to find that something was glimmering outside. I get up onto my feet and dodge the lying bodies as I balance my way out the exit.

The cool air tenses my cheeks as I breathe in a deep air after successfully make it out of the tent. I rub my exposed arms in the cold and look around for the source of the sound and light. My eyes land on the bonfire that has mostly died down and relaxed into a gentle shimmer of warm looking light. Then my eyes land on the back of a person sitting by the fire. The bouncing sound began to gather speed and began forming into a gentle melody. I step around to get a better look of the person sitting by the fire. I can see that he has black hair, which lies loosely over his face as he looks down onto the acoustic guitar he was holding and plucking skilfully and elegantly. I try to get a better look of his face to see who he was but that's hard when he's facing down. I walk closer to him quietly and carefully not to distract him from his beautiful tune. But when I come an inch from looking at his face he stops his fingers and jolts his head up at me, staring into my eyes in surprise. My heart stops when I notice myself being captured in Stan's deep blue orbs.

"Oh, hey Kyle" Stan smiles warmly, "Can't you sleep? Did I wake you up?" His tone becomes higher with worry with his second question and I shake my head quickly and he sighs in relief. I place myself on the rock next to him, which my mind immediately tells me that 'it's too close' when my knee nearly rubs against his when I sit down.

My mind panics to ignore the thoughts and I ask him "So, what were you just playing on the guitar?" Doubt slowly comes to me if I had rushed the words too quickly. But he smiles, even chuckles a bit when he answers.

"Dude you know this song!" He secures his guitar back into his stance and begins to play the tune again. The quiet and somehow lonely melody seems unfamiliar at first but then a nostalgic feeling flows through my stomach and I smile when I remember the tune.

"Dude, Kansas?" I mock him, chuckling as he smiles and looks up at me, his fingers still plucking the tune.

"What? You used to love Kansas!"

"No, I loved guitar hero, and that was when I was nine! Besides, that was 'Carry on my wayward son'" He mimics a defensive frown as I tease him but keeps the song playing.

"So what? This song is better isn't?" I can't help but slightly snigger at his defensive tone, but then his mimicking frown turns into a real one. "Fine I won't play then" And he drops his fingers off the strings, stopping the wonderful tune and before I knew it, my hand was automatically clenching onto his, preventing him from letting go of the guitar. My cheeks burn as he looks down at me in surprise. With my heart thumping, I keep my hand on his and hesitantly look up at him.

"Please don't stop" The words whisper out my mouth pleadingly and it feel like it's one of the most embarrassing things I've ever done. My heart thumps torturingly under his still dumbstruck gaze, but it seems like my eyes were glued to his, unable for me to look away. My cheeks feel like they were about to explode from overheating until he finally looks away and holds his guitar firmly again, releasing himself from my grip.

"Okay..." He finally says, still looking down, unable for me to read his expression. "But you'll have to sing!" He jolts his face up and looks into me, making it impossible to process his words calmly.

"What! No way, nuh uh, I can't sing." I shake my head desperately, "Besides, I- don't know the words" It was a lie, I knew all the words to this song.

"Oh bullshit, you know them perfectly Kyle, come on!" He begins to pluck the tune and sings the first line.

"_I close my eyes-_" He cuts off and looks at me expectantly, his fingers lingering on that particular melody waiting for me. I open my mouth to protest but then shut it, only to open it again to continue where he left off.

"-_Only for a moment, and the moment's gone…" _My lungs shake with embarrassment but I'm able to keep my voice and tone steady. _"All we do, crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see-"_ As the song progresses I notice my voice relaxing into the melody, and Stan's deeper and slightly transparent voice joins in for the chorus.

"_Dust in the wind... All we are is dust in the wind-"_

When the lyrics come to a close and the melody dies down I don't even notice the silence that comes between us. I stare into the small fire, the glowing light burns my cheeks but I don't care. It's the only thing that is lighting us right now. I tilt my head slightly to get a glimpse of Stan through the corner of my eyes but then I'm caught in my spot when my eyes meet his. The light from the fire reflects in his eyes, the deep blue glowing magnificently, which drowns me into his gaze. I don't even notice that I'm staring at him until his face comes closer into mine and I duck my head away, hoping helplessly that he didn't notice my blush when I was caught in his eyes. Then what was a peaceful silence before began to feel slightly awkward and embarrassing. I focus my eyes into the fire desperate to distract myself and I think Stan does the same.

As we both stare into the fire my eyes catch a lonely twig set to the side, the tip of it slightly touching the fire. I reach for it and notice that it's the broken twig I found that Craig made fun of earlier. The tip is blackened like a pencil, giving me the urge to write something onto the rocks. I look around, feeling Stan's curious gaze on me and I find what I was looking for: a perfect rock to draw on. Without thinking what to write I reach out for it and scrape on the first thing that comes to mind: 'Kyle was here'. I hear Stan chuckle as I look at the writing with satisfaction and frown at him.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just-" He shakes his head but keeps his sheepish smug "couldn't you think of something more original to write?" I pout my lips at him and frown at my writing on the rock.

"What? I _am_ here and-" My defensive temper drops and I pause my sentence when I notice what I was going to say. "I might not be tomorrow..." The words come out quietly but I can see that he had heard them perfectly. I keep my eyes on the fire but I can feel his concerned gaze move away from me and onto the flames. Now the atmosphere was uncomfortable and slightly heavy, thanks to me. Then I see Stan's slender fingers pick the pathetic twig up and begin writing something on the same rock, next to my writing. I take my eyes off the fire to get a look of what he was writing and my heart flatters at the two words he had added to my sentence.

'Kyle _and Stan_ was here'

"Because I might not be here tomorrow either." His words make me flinch and I gape up at him; he's not smiling his gentle smile at me, but stares into my eyes firmly. "But I don't want to leave yet, and I don't want you to either-" He pauses his words for a second but keeps his eyes on mine. "I want to stay here, _with you_" My heart thumps loudly as his words sink into my head and I feel desperate to break our eye contact but my body doesn't let me. My heart slightly sinks when sudden realisation come to mind.

_I want to stay here with you too. But the reason why I want to be with you is completely different to why you want to stay with me. _

I purse my lips together and slightly bite on the inside of my cheek. "Yeah..." I say quietly and look away from him. "Me too" Then suddenly my vision becomes blurry and it feels as if a sudden cloud of heavy smoke washes through my head. Stan chuckles quietly as I yawn deeply and bat my eyelids a few times, fighting back some sleepy tears. I didn't even notice that I was tired until now.

"You should sleep now Kyle" Stan says with a smile. But I shake my head crazily, fighting the sleepiness as well as denying his words.

"I'm not tired!" But as if betraying my words, my head rocks forward and my eyelids become heavier and heavier. _Why is it always that when I want to stay awake I get sleepy? Why is it that when I'm with Stan that my conscious drifts away? _I can't control my mind anymore. I lose all control of my body weight and I drop my head to the side, leaning onto something hard but warm. Before my conscious drifts out of me my eyes land on a rock, _our rock, _and I carve the words written on it into my memory.

'Kyle and Stan was here'

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><p><strong>A.N-I searched up gathering wood on google and it came up with 'yaoi heaven' lol. Anyway how was that? I keep on blabbering in my chapters and nothing seems to happen. But I guess that's what you get from learning 'Of a boy' and '1984' at school (English is my worst subject. yayX( ) For anyone who could possibly guess who Butters' boyfriend is I would be amazed and would do anything you say XD Anyway, stop with the long ANs! Salut!<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**A.N- Thank you all those who read/reviewed last chapter! The reviews are what keep me enthusiastic! Yay! I also wanted to congratulate Dinders for guessing Butters' boyfriend correctly! Yeah you got it right the second time! It's bicurious Bradley! tehehe. **

**This chapter is pretty short and nothing really happens but I wanted to think of it as the mellow chapter before the turning point. I had it done yesterday but I was wondering if I should put the next bit in but then it became over 2K words and I just thought I would put it in the next chapter. Anyway enough of long ANs. Please enjoy! And say goodbye to xxx!**

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><p>The time I spend here with Stan, Kenny, Tweek, Butters and Craig seem to go tremendously fast, but at the same time, it feels like it lasts forever. It feels as though it has always been like this, like we were always living together and it will always be. It doesn't feel like someone was going to leave. And that reality definitely doesn't sink in to me, not yet, not enough to affect my attitude at least. But should I feel different or insecure about the elimination?<p>

...Nuh-uh. Just have fun.

XXX

I wake up with the deep agonising sensation of being tied up by thick wire and then sat on by a large elephant, which seemed almost as painful as being sat on by Cartman; _almost_. The light from the outside world shines through my closed eyelids, which tells me that I should get up. With great difficulty I lift my heavy eyelids open and find my face inches away from a sleeping Tweek. Still a little drowsy, I stare into the blonde's calm face absentmindedly. It feels strange how the agonising weight hasn't gone away even after the dream.

Tweek groans slightly and twitches his eye in his sleep and a jet stream of pain rushes through my sides as my back gives a loud _crack! _and I instantly know where the pain was coming from. Tweek was holding onto me, or more like he was using his arms and legs to wrap around my waist and tighten with all his might. A loud aching groan escapes my mouth by he doesn't even twitch at the sound and continues to breathe out his calm breaths. But when I look down at my waist I see more than one pair of arms and legs wrapped around me. Another shoot of pain grinds my insides as the other pair of limbs that aren't Tweek's tightens its hold. I couldn't see the face of the grinder behind me but from the look of the hands, I think it's Kenny.

"Fuck!" I close my eyes and hiss out through my teeth from pain, but the two blonds seem too happy in their sleep to notice. I try to wiggle in their grip to break free, which I think works when they loosen their grip and groan, but they only go back into their previous grinding which feels ten times worse than before. You may think that being spooned by the two angels here would be awesome but believe me, their beastly squeezing isn't something you'll want to endure.

Hoping that someone would wake up soon, I tense my whole body to endure the pain; I don't know if it works. I just lay there thinking '_Someone please wake up, please wake up!'_ and then suddenly I hear rustling of a sleeping bag and my heart lights up with hope. _'Thank god!'_

Someone sits up a few bodies away from me and rubs his face, and my heart sinks when I see who it is. When he takes his hand off his lifeless black hair drops into his eyes, which he then combs up roughly with his hand, revealing his emotionless face. He slowly turns his head down and widens his sharp blue eyes when they meet my own. Out of all the people that could wake up _why_ did it have to be Craig Tucker?

Well, unfortunately, he was my only option now. Pursing my lips together for a brief moment, I hesitantly part my lips and slowly mouth to him 'Please help me'. I wonder for a long second if he had understood me. He stares at me wide eyed for a moment then relaxes his expression into a glare. My hopes drop at his expression but then it revives as he gets up onto his feet, ducking so he doesn't hit the tent roof. He keeps his glare on me; the way he stares makes me confused. Was he going to help me or not?

I slightly jolt in surprise as he begins to walk towards me, not caring for stepping on those lying on the ground. Stan groans in his sleep as Craig kicks him out of his way and slight anger rises in me but when I notice, the tall boy was standing over me, one foot on each of my sides and stares down at me. I freeze in his stare. Keeping his unreadable eyes on me he kicks up his right foot, sending Kenny flying off of me. The blond boy groans from the impact but rolls onto his side, clinging onto the sleeping Butters next to him. I stare at him with slight shock, amazed at how he could have kept sleeping after that kick. Then I feel Craig's left foot nuzzle against my side and I gaze at it doubtfully wondering if it was going to kick Tweek as it did to the poor boy. I turn my eyes to Tweek, praying for him not to get hurt, but the hard smack from Craig I was expecting doesn't come. Instead, the raven leans into me and gently untangles Tweek's arms and legs off of me with ease. I immediately sit up the second I'm free, looking at Tweek then to Craig disbelievingly, but it all makes sense; Craig would never hurt Tweek Tweak.

My gaze lingers on the two for a second and I feel the area between my eyebrows squeeze hotly. Suddenly Craig flings his head towards me, making my heart jump nervously. He gets up, but I keep my eyes where he was just sitting, not wanting to make eye contact. Then I suddenly feel a strong hand burning onto my skin and aggressively pulling me up, making me gasp from the sudden force. Craig successfully gets me on my feet, but doesn't wait for a second for me to adjust to the height before he pulls me out of the tent, still not caring of stepping on anyone. I nearly step on Stan's feet as Craig drags me out but I jump over him, missing him by an inch. I sigh with relief in the air, but I lose my concentration of the jump and land on the side of my foot, losing all balance. My arms automatically fling in the air in search for something to hold onto. I panic when I find nothing and prepare for a fall until a pair of firm hands grabs me still in the air, not letting me hit the ground. My mind instantly relaxes and I sigh deeply into the ground. It's not until then that I see the hands around my waist and freeze dead on my spot. I slowly look up anxiously until my eyes meet a pair of sharp ice blue orbs. The sapphire eyes stare into mine and I gulp deeply.

"Er… I'm fine now. Thanks Craig" The words that come out of my mouth seem alienated to me. I didn't think that I would be thanking Craig anytime in my life. He grunts with an unimpressed look and lets go of me, but somehow leaving his heat linger around my waist for a second longer. I rub the squeezing area of my waist; the poor thing has already suffered enough this morning.

The sound of crunching twigs and grinding pebbles comes to my ears and I look up to see Craig walking away towards the now burnt out fire. My legs instinctively follow him. He drops himself onto one of the rocks around the fire and leans in to start it up again. I plop myself a few rocks away from him and gaze at his actions boringly. He certainly knows his stuff. With a slight nudge on the wood and a fling of a match a new fire was born and in no time it grows hot enough to warm the morning air.

"Yay" I chuckle softly at the small flames and lean my hands close to it. Craig smirks lightly and I turn lazily around to glance at him, but as I do, a certain rock catches my eye. It sat near the Craig's foot. It was a plain rock but I knew on the other side it said 'Kyle and Stan was here'. I keep my eyes on the back of the rock, sudden warmness filling the pit of my stomach. I don't know how hard or how long I glance at it, but my gaze seems to catch Craig's attention. I swing my eyes away from the rock, hoping Craig wouldn't notice but it was too late, he found the writing.

"Kyle and Stan was here." He says blankly, staring at the rock. His tone is not mocking or covered with a snigger. "That's stupid" I turn to glare at him, anger rising at his comment towards the special rock, but my body stiffens when I see his expression. He glares down on the rock, scowling at it as if it was shouting out silent insults at him. Then almost suddenly his scowl releases into its usual glare, but still somewhat more deep and bitter than usual. "As if you needed to write that down" He matters through his lips.

"Huh?" Not exactly catching what he just said I tilt my head at him. He moves his eyes up at me annoyingly.

"I wouldn't have to write down 'I was here' in order to remember that I was. If it was so important to me I wouldn't forget it." My lips form into a pout automatically. I take that as an insult, but then again, what don't I that comes out of Craig's mouth?

"We didn't write it there to remember it. We wrote it there because- umm" Why did we write that there? Craig raises his eyebrows at me, waiting for a response. "The heat of the moment?" I raise my shoulders and hands up in a questionable manner, unsure about my answer, except for that it's gay. Craig keeps his glare on me but stays silent; does that mean I won the argument? It doesn't really matter. I shrug and look away form him, hugging my arms close together. He looks pretty pissed. Why do I have to deal with this douche bag from so early in the morning?

"_You should get to know him better"_

Suddenly Tweek's voice comes to mind and my growing irritation towards Craig stops, as well as making me realise one small thing.

"Dude, I'm _sorry…" _The last word comes out of me more like a mutter and I doubt that he understood it until his head swings around and his eyes stare at the back of my head in surprise. I immediately regret my sudden apology and tighten the hug around my arms for desperate comfort, which doesn't really help. My cheeks warm up from embarrassment. I can understand his surprise; I hardly ever apologise to anyone, and now I apologise to Craig? Ergh. But he doesn't need to be _that_ surprised does he? I mean, _him_, _surprised_; at my apology? That's a bit over the top.

I begin slowly, still not facing his amazed expression. "I know why you're pissed" I hesitantly turn my head to face him. "It's because Tweek was hugging me this morning wasn't it?" His body freezes, but he keeps silent. _Bingo_. "Hey that wasn't my fault okay?" All of I sudden I feel defensive and forget all my slightly remorseful feelings towards the noirette. "I mean _he_ was the one that was hugging me. And we were asleep! Honestly man, if you want him all to your self that much you should just go tell him instead of feeling jealous towards everything that touches him!" Suddenly his slightly confused expression instantly falls into his usual glare.

"What?"

My frustration towards him goes over the top and I roll my eyes exploding out an aggressive sigh. "Dude, I know the truth-" I pause and take in one last breath before the blow. "-I know you like Tweek"

Craig looks at me blankly, clearly not expecting what he just heard. Then slowly, but firmly, his eyes sharpen into a hard scowl.

"You don't have a clue about how I feel about Tweek, Broflovski" His tone is cold but I hardly flinch before I continue.

"You don't have to hide it. I've known for a while now" As if it was possible, his scowl hardens even more and this time I can't help but slightly shudder.

He lets out a small sigh and rests his forehead in his palm. "Sometimes I question your intelligence" His tone calms a bit, but adopts a sharp edge. It's enough to infuriate me.

"What does that suppose to mean?" I glare at him with daggers, insulted by his comment. But he hardly reacts to my death glare. He just looks at me through the corner of his eye then looks back, keeping his head on his palm.

"I sometimes wonder why I even bother."

"With me? Why do you ever!" Even when I shout at him he doesn't look at me anymore. He lifts his forehead and rests his chin in his palm, staring into the fire again, sighing one last time. I shake with fury but I have nowhere to release it since Craig has chosen to ignore me. I just shove my curls out of my face roughly from frustration, then bring my palm to my face and sigh deeply into it helplessly.

Why does _he_ bother?

_Why do _I _bother? _

XXX

"Morning fellers"

"Morning Butters" I'm pretty preoccupied with glaring at the fire to actually turn around to greet the blond. It's better than Craig; he doesn't even bother to move a muscle for him. I feel Butters' curious gaze tickling our backs but I try my best to ignore it.

"Gee, is something wrong with you two?"

"Mornin' sunshine!" Kenny hops out of the tent and swings his arm around Butters' shoulder while stretching his back. "The sun is shinin' and my stomach is rumblin'. So what's for breakfast Craigy-o?" He claps his hands together and jumps into the spot next Craig, who just sits there and stare at him bitterly.

"Bacon and eggs" The black head answers simply. _Great that means only eggs for me- _"And pancakes" He adds, getting out a pack of pancake mixture. Kenny laughs excitingly and pats Craig on the back. For a second I thought that Craig gave me a glance, but I think it was just my imagine.

As soon as the food starts cooking and the smell begins to fill the air, Tweek and Stan comes out of the tent, both looking half asleep with their hair pointing up in all directions. Stan yawns and scratches his head as he drops next to me, then a sudden embarrassing realisation comes to me.

"Stan did I fall asleep on you last night?" My voice is a little panicked and he chuckles sleepily.

"Yeah. I think you found my shoulder pretty comfortable!" _Jesus Christ!_

"Dude! I'm so sorry! Why didn't you just kick me awake?" Heat began to rise to my face again. Stan just smiles dazedly into the fire. I don't even know if he's understanding what I'm saying; he just sits there smiling like I'm being silly or something!

"It's fine Kyle. You were really adorable" My heart stops. I gape at him with my mouth half hanging. He keeps his half-closed eyes on the fire and sways his head slightly, not acknowledging what he just said. Okay so he definitely doesn't understand what he's saying. But that thought doesn't help the scarlet on my face to settle down.

"Ky-le-" A sleepy voice droops my name out and something crushes into my side. Strong arms wrap around my waist and spiky blond hair prickles my face. "I haven't slept so much in my entire life..." The sleepy voice purrs and by the relaxed tone in it I almost doubt who it is.

"Tweek! Get off of me!" Great, now I was squished in by two drowsed out guys. My heart stops and I look up hesitantly, letting the blond cringe onto me tighter. And sure enough, Craig was glaring at me again. _It's not my fault! _I protest at him through my eyes but he doesn't change his expression. On the other hand Kenny was smiling excitedly with shining eyes and then he suddenly gets up.

"Kyle tackle!" Followed by his loud voice something strong slams into me.

"Gotcha!" Tweek giggles and pins me down to the ground and then more weight pounds onto me.

"Fuck-" My guts feel like they are going to be squeezed out through my throat. It feels like they are at least three fully grown men grinding me into the ground. I cough out in pain but the guys don't seem to want to move off me.

"Pancakes are done" As if that monotonous voice was the magic word, all the weight flings off of me, leaving me there to catch the breath I desperately needed. I look up and see Butters, Tweek and Kenny rushing over to Craig excitedly. Fucking blondes.

"You okay dude?" Stan looks down at me with a more awoken expression than before, confused whether he was meant to be worried or laugh. so I choose for him.

"Yeah I'm fine!" And I laugh, and he joins in as well.

Soon a plate with a large pancake is passed to me and Stan by Kenny. I still have the urge to punch him but I hold it down because I couldn't wait to dig into the food.

I don't think of it as being the last meal for the one of us.

I completely forget about that fact.

XXX

When we arrive back at the house we immediately spot a fancy black Mercedes parked beside the door. Its sparkling body definitely looks out of place in these woods. I hear Kenny whistle impressively at the car, but I get a bad feeling about it. All reality shows that I have ever watched took the person eliminated home in a fancy black car, and I bet Cartman would do the same. That car was to take one of us home.

While everyone rushed to the car to press their noses against the window to examine it, I walk straight pass it and enter the house. Surprisingly or not, Craig does the same.

"Ah! My favourite douches; how are we both today?" As soon as we set foot into the house we're welcomed in by Cartman's humongous face; only this time it's in person, not on screen.

"Fuck. You. Fatso" I say coolly. For some reason I don't have my usual boiling temper towards him, only cold hatred. Cartman merely twitches at the word 'Fatso' but keeps his ugly smug on his face.

"That's alright Kyle," He puts his hands up in a mocking surrendering manner. "I know that you're just trembling inside with fear from the idea that _you_ might be the one going home in the black Mercedes parked outside." I lounge at him, pinning him to the ground with my forearm to his neck and punching him with the other, but that's all in my head; in reality, I just scowl at him and clench my fists until my nails pinching into the skin nearly breaks through. It's not the idea that I might be going home. It's not even the loneliness to think that somebody else might be going home. But it's the idea that he has the power to choose who's leaving, to choose who stays with who, his power to make anyone's life in here a living hell and that _we_ can do nothing but obey him, is the idea that makes aggravating knots in my stomach.

A storming sound of footsteps and excited voices comes through the door and we turn around to look at the other four boys entering the house "Hey, what's up with the-" Kenny stops dead when he sees Cartman in the room, not only Kenny, but the whole crowd just fell silent. I sigh. So they finally understand what's going on, huh?.

Cartman just sneers at their shock and gestures towards the lounge room. "Shall we, Gentlemen?"

We all walk doubtfully into the room, and Cartman indicates us to sit down. I dump myself aggressively onto the couch, still glaring at Cartman, and to my delightful surprise, Stan sits next to me; my fuming mind is a little too preoccupied to get carried away though. Kenny jumps next to Stan and Butters places himself next to Kenny, squishing the four of us on the small sofa. This time my mind does get distracted as Stan's warm body squeezes against mine. But my mind comes back again when a loud clap echoes around the room.

I jolt in my spot and accidently kick something on the ground. "Sor-" I stop dead in apology when my eyes meet Craig's. I sink back with a pout and cross my arms. _As if I care if I kick Craig._ I give a quick glance back downand see that Craig was sitting next to Tweek, talking to him. He seems much more relaxed around Tweek than when he is around me. If only he was _always_ that mild and straight forward towards him, he might then even have a chance. But come to think of it, he's like that with the others as well, sans Stan. Those two seem to have a problem with each other, maybe not as big as the one he has with me though. Agh, thinking about Craig sucks.

"Are you listening Jew face?"

"What?" I come out of thought automatically when I hear Cartman's voice call out Jew. He looks at me, unimpressed and really annoyed, which I couldn't care less of. "Yeah yeah, I'm listening"

"Then tell me Kyle, who's leaving today?"

"Yeah umm..." My mind doesn't immediately processes his words, but they slowly begin to sink in. _What_? I jolt my head up and gape up at him. _He already said who's eliminated? _I look around at everyone to check if the fatass was joking, but from all their quiet expressions, I can tell that they were already told. My eyes land back on Cartman who lifts one eyebrow up at me. I gulp down a lump in my throat.

"Umm... me?" I guess doubtfully. Cartman sighs frustratingly and begins to tap his foot on the ground and rolls his eyes away from me.

"No Kyle, you're not leaving." Butters says gently. Cartman grunts and rolls his eyes back onto me, stopping his tapping, but I keep my wide eyes on Butters. He gives me a warm and gentle smile. "I am"

My eyes widen with what he says with shock. Butters' gentle smile becomes a little bit troubled and he shrugs sadly at me. I don't know what to say. I frown at him hopelessly and swing my head towards Cartman who just sniggers at my confused expression.

"That's right Kyle. As much as I wished that it was you who would be leaving, the viewers chose Butters." I can see Butters slightly fidget in his spot through the corner of my eye, but as torturing as it is I can't seem to tear my eyes off of Cartman. Cartman gives me a small snort before turning to Butters.

"Thank you Butters, we all really enjoyed your compony here. Now, if you could pack your things, a black Mercedes is waiting for you outside. Would you like a chocolate?" Cartman says with his business tone and pulls out a pack of chocolate from nowhere. Butters chuckles and stands up with his bright smile.

"No thanks Eric, I'm alright." He then turns to face all of us with even a brighter smile than he was just showing Cartman. "Thanks fellers. The time I had here with you guys was the best time I had in my life!" Then he gives a small wink towards me. I immediately interpret the message and can't help but spill a small smile.

'_Except for maybe the times I spend with my boyfriend'_

He then leaves the lounge room without turning back and we can't help but just gape at his calmness. Cartman snorts, already lost interest in the small goodbye and turns to the rest of us. "And for the rest of you-" He begins to say but I don't listen. I stand up and dash out the room after Butters. I can faintly hear Cartman yelling out my name but I don't care.

When I slam the door open Butters stares up me with surprise, more to the sound of the dramatic entrance than my presence I guess.

"Is something wrong Kyle? Did you forget something?" He asks me worryingly. I shake my head and he smiles. "Eric's silly. I don't have anything to pack up since we weren't allowed any bags here" Giving the room one last glance he gets up and walks towards me, gives me a smile, and walk out the door. I follow him of course. Butters pauses at the front door of the house, gazing at the Mercedes.

"Kyle?" I stiffen behind him when he calls my name as he turns around to face me. "There's one last thing I want to tell you before I go"

"Yeah?" I tilt my head curiously at him and he smiles.

"You know how you asked me what it feels like to be loved by somebody?"

"Yeah" He widens his smile and leans in to my ear, gesturing that he wanted to whisper something. I stand on my toes and lean into him.

"I think you'll learn it soon enough" I feel the heat rise to my face as he looks at me, still smiling.

"What does that suppose to mean?"

The second I ask, a large body (at least larger than mine) tackles Butters into a hug.

"Oh gee, hi Tweek" Butters chuckles and pats the spiky blond hair. Tweek immediately lets the boy go and takes a step back until he's beside me.

"I just, ngh, wanted to say bye"

"Us too Butters!" Another excited voice calls and lunges at Butters.

"We'll miss you dude" Stan says as he comes beside me.

"Or more like your cooking" I hear a monotonous voice say somewhere behind my back. Butters laughs loudly, something really fresh to my ears, like I've never heard before.

"Thanks a lot fellers, really thanks a lot"

After his last words of thanks he walks to the black Mercedes and hops into the back seat. The car jolts to life and the back seat window immediately opens, and an arm pops out of it and it begins to wave frantically. We all do the same, raising our hands and waving them as if it was a race of who could wave the hardest. The car turns and disappears into the trees, the hand still waving until it is completely out of sight.

When the shiny black melts into the shadows of the woods Tweek twitches next to me and I proudly rub him on the back. I'm so glad he's become secure enough to be able to make a close friend during the short time here. I smile up at him and he looks down at me, returning a shaky one back.

I give the trail of the car tires one last glance. From Butters' last whisper a strange feeling in my stomach was simmering.

I have a strange feeling as if some things were about to change; maybe even dramatically.

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><p><strong>A.N- School started, so probably no faster updates :( As I said the next chapter I think will be a changing point and towards a step onto the road to the end. I think the story would be progressing from now on and maybe not so much playing, hope not (love mucking around). There is like one more activity I have in mind. More Kyle tormenting to do :) Reviews keep me writing so please do if you want updates!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**A.N- Thanks for those who read and give me scrumptious reviews! I adore them and that's what makes me write :) I was going to give some warning for this one but then I thought it was unnecessary. If you don't like it, I'm sorry, but I do hope you like it. Enjoy!**

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><p>I always thought I knew the truth. Don't wanna brag, but with my quick working brain I think I kinda had the right to. I nearly always came first in class; never losing the silent race against Wendy, although Gregory would sometimes beat me. So, many people thought I knew the truth most of the times as well. However, I knew that sometimes I was wrong, but those times I would deny that inconvenient fact and fight. But I guess I was never <em>completely<em> astray from the facts, so I never knew what I would do if I _did_ get something utterly wrong.

In the end, I guess I'm just too close-minded.

XXX

The only change I wanted now was the room change, a new roommate. The sentimental feeling of Butters leaving disappeared after a while and now I could only sit and wait Cartman's announcement. I'm pretty confident this time that I'd be with who I hope for. I mean, I didn't pick Craig and I'm pretty sure that he is more than sick of being with me.

Cartman's late. The fiery light from the sunset dyed all the treetops into its blazing colour, the red light shining through the large window and painting the white walls of the lounge room orange-red. The light also made my red hair glow even redder, if that's possible.

Again, I sent in my roommate request as Stan. We didn't agree on anything this time, but I didn't think we needed to. The only thing I hope for now is that Stan requested for me as well.

"Kyle is it two spoons of sugar for the sauce or one?" Stan pops his head out of the kitchen bench and asks me with flour on his face.

"Ahh, two?" Lie. I have no idea. Wait, that's a lot of sugar. "What are you making?"

"Um, some kind of like, teriyaki chicken, I think" I chuckle as he looks like he's struggling with the sauce. But I'm not even going to try and help him. I don't want to help any kind of crazy sauce that has two tablespoons of sugar in it.

"Stan you've got some flour on your nose" I smile at him with a slight snigger, pointing a spot on my nose that mirrored his. He looks at me curiously then rubs his whole face with his shoulder and gets back to his sauce.

"No it's still there!"

"Huh?" I can't help but laugh as he rubs every part of his face except for the area with the flour.

"Here," Giving out a final laugh, I lean over the back of the chair and onto the kitchen bench, indicating my hands out for him to lean in as well. He obeys, closing his eyes and leans over the bench. It was only a small speck of white on the tip of his nose; I don't know how such a small thing could get me worked up.

"There!" He immediately leans back after I say it's off. I smile widely at him and he looks at me, still rubbing the area on his nose I cleaned off with a hint of embarrassment lighting up his cheeks. I can't help but keep on grinning. He's so-

An angry ring from the phone stuck to the wall behind Stan interrupts my thoughts. I leaned out of my chair to get it but Stan beats me; it was behind him after all.

"Yeah this is Stan-" He pauses when the caller begins to talk. "Yeah, so?" By the tone of his voice I bet it's someone unpleasant. "Huh? How did you-" His voice pitches with surprise, but then his body relaxes down, as if accepting or admitting to something. "Yeah... What!" I slightly jump at his sudden burst. He looks irritated and confused, this time not accepting what he's hearing. Even after the caller stops talking he stays silent for a few seconds, then slowly opens his mouth "Okay, yeah fine." And he hangs up the phone violently into its place. I watch him with concern as he slightly pants in his spot.

"Are you okay Stan?" To say the truth, I feel a bit nervous watching him; I haven't seen him this frustrated, even angry, in a long time. He looks at me with his still burning eyes, then quickly looks away, placing his fingers on the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down.

"Yeah, I'm just…" He pauses and lets out a last deep breath; then he looks up at me with a small smile. "It's nothing. Don't worry"

Unfortunately, I'm too flattered by his smile to question him any further. I just watch him carry on with his sugary sauce, trying to hold down my concern towards him.

XXX

When our stomachs are full we all gather around the television, waiting for it to show an ugly face. It's 10pm; the sun was long gone and we were eager to find out our roommates for the next five days.

"Why the fuck is he taking so long?" Kenny bursts out loudly and stands up, looking towards us with wide arms. "It's been like, six hours since we sent our requests in and about three hours of just sitting around here waiting!" He turns around and flips his middle finger at the screen. "Hurry up you fat piece of shit before I stick this baby up your ass!"

"Stick _what_ up my ass?"

Kenny jolts his body when the fat face we were waiting for suddenly appears on the screen. Cartman just stares down at the blonde's finger with a furrowed eyebrow.

"Just kidding man," Kenny opens his arms out in a surrendering gesture. "Like I'd wanna stick my precious finger up your ass. The pressure from your over-concentrated fat on your but cheeks would crush it like a twig"

Cartman's face flushed deep red with anger "Ay! You poor piece of crap! Don't make me come out there!" We all look at him slightly puzzled; even Cartman himself cocks his eyebrows up with confusion at his own words.

"What. Come out from the screen like in 'the ring'?" I ask him, forgetting my mocking tone.

Kenny crackles with laughter "I'd rather have a hot chick coming out of a screen to kill me than a fat pig!"

"Shut the fuck up Kenny!"

I'm so glad there's the screen dividing us apart or those two would be rolling around, beating the shit out of each other.

"Just shut up Cartman and tell us who are roommates are" Stan pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. He's being doing that a lot today.

Stan's words remind me why we were here and my heart thumps slightly from excitement. _Finally I could get away from this bastard! _I tell myself and shoot a quick glance at Craig. He looks slightly bored as if he couldn't care less about the results. I get the urge to stick my tongue out at him but I hold it in with a shit-eating grin. I peek out the corner of my eye to check on Stan and then a slight suspicion rises in me. Stan didn't just look frustrated. He was glaring at Cartman on the screen, clenching his fists as if he was holding in desperate anger. My grin drops and I notice myself not peeking out of my eye but full on staring at him. _Did he know something I didn't? _I slight bubbly feeling mixes in my stomach from worry.

"Are you alright Stan?" I ask him and pat him on the shoulder. He flings around at me with surprise and I feel the tension in him release under my palm resting on him.

"Yeah. I'm fine-" He says quietly, but this time his answer doesn't do much to stop my worry. He looked at me half regretfully and half- longingly? That doesn't make any sense. I just know that it's not a cheerful expression and that's enough to make me anxious. But I don't do anything more. I simply nod lightly and lift my hand off his shoulder. For a second I thought his eyes shifted over me and glared at the person behind me: Craig. Maybe it wasn't just me. He disliked the guy after all.

A loud cough shoots out from the speakers, breaking my distraction and I bring my focus back to Cartman.

"So if you assholes don't mind, I would like to tell you your roommates." He clears his throat again, making me sigh with frustration. I mean, just fucking tell us already!

"Because now that Butters is gone there are an odd number of you, it means that there would be a group of three, or there would be a sad loner" Oh good lord he's gonna make me the loner isn't he? "Unfortunately there aren't enough beds for three people in one room there has to be an odd person out. But, and all of you should be fucking grateful, there was one person who volunteered to be the loner" He says with a boring tone. I bet he so wanted to make me the loner. I wonder who could possibly want to be alone though? _Could it be Craig? I mean, that antisocial douche maybe had enough after dealing with me._ I slightly snigger at the delightful thought. The idea brings my spirits up and I stand on my toes, eager for Cartman to continue. "And that person who is utterly kind and boring, is Stan Marsh"

_Huh?_ My spirits drop, pulling me off my toes and securing my feet flat to the ground. Stan chose to be alone? Why would he want to be alone than to be with Kenny or or or, _me_?

My heart sinks at the thought. Was I getting too carried away? Maybe our relationship hadn't grown as much as I thought it had. My cheeks slightly blush with embarrassment and shame towards myself. I try to ignore my heavy heart and look up. _I'm okay if I'm with Kenny or Tweek. I will be happy with either of them. _I tell myself, avoiding the slimmest possibility I had of ending up with you-know-who.

"So, Kyle" My brain feels like it just jumped out of my skull and landed back in. I look towards the screen as Cartman's sniggering cheeks babble my name out. "Why, I can see that you're upset." He bats his eyelashes and purrs at me in the most disgusting way and I have to grind my teeth to endure it.

"Shut the fuck up Cartman! I'm just upset because I have to endure you're hideous figure for more than two minutes!"

"Ay! Just because you like Picasso doesn't mean I'm ugly; it means you have bad taste!" We glare at each other for a few seconds, catching our breaths. After our panting stops, Cartman leans back into his chair and clears his throat before looking at us through the screen again.

"So Kyle, if you don't mind I would like to tell you your roommates." His previous snigger crawls back onto his mouth. "Or are you too scared to know?"

"Why the fuck would I be scared Cartman? I am celebrating inside to the thought that I won't have to be with you!" I shout at him but he only smirks at my comment and raises his eyebrows at me challengingly.

"That's good to know Kyle because your roommate for the next five days is-" His dreadful smile widens even more. "Craig Tucker"

_What?_

I look up at him confusingly. "Huh?"

"Your roommate hasn't changed Kyle. You're with Craig again." My mind blanks out just for a second, before it comes back in, flaming from anger.

"Why the hell would I be with him? You said that our roommates would be chosen by our requests! What's up with that? I can't be with Craig because I know I didn't request for him, and there's no doubt that he wouldn't request for me!" I point at the direction where Craig was standing, right behind me, but I keep by glare on Cartman. This lying son of a bitch, what was he thinking and why!

"How do you know that he didn't request for you?" The sneer in Cartman's voice was gone, just for that sentence. He wasn't even glaring back at me, like he was too tired to even stare at me.

"Well, that's because..." My finger pointing towards Craig begins to subconsciously drop. "Because..." I search frantically in my head for an answer but nothing seems to come out. I slightly turn my head towards the raven, seeking for some kind of support.

"You didn't...Right?" I can sense the doubt in my own voice. For a second, he doesn't respond, he just stares right at me without moving a muscle. Then his cheeks begin to move and his mouth opens slightly.

"What if I did?" It was a simple comment, simple enough for me to put the puzzle in my head together, simple enough to infuriate me once more.

I can't believe he actually did that! I can't believe that he would actually choose to endure being with me for five days in order to torment me!

"You fucking asshole!" I spit out at him and burst out of the lounge room. Whipping the air out of my way with fuming aggravation. I hear another pair of footsteps follow my half-jogging pace and my frustration only boosts up until it reaches the tips of my fiery hair when I guess who it is.

XXX

I storm inside our room, followed closely by Craig. The second he shuts the door I grab him by the neck of his shirt and push him against the wall as hard as I can.

"Go on, tell me!" I spit out at him, but he barely flinches his eyebrows.

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me why the fuck you chose me!" My voice was not merciful, it was demanding and violent, and I think even Craig could sense that. But he just stares at me with no emotion. My hand around his shirt seems to be doing nothing but I don't care; if he felt even the slightest pressure from it that was good enough from me.

"Is it to annoy me? Huh? Did you choose me because you wanted to torment me for being best friends with Tweek? Because if that's the case, you're doing an excellent job asshole!" With this he twitches his eyes in irritation or anger. Good. That's a start. "Personally if I were you, I would request to be with the one I liked instead of his best friend just to aggravate him because I'm jealous. Maybe then, I'd might even have a chance with him!"

I see a flame ignite in his cool eyes and he aggressively grabs onto my wrist of the arm that's holding onto him. "You better shut up about how _you_ think I feel about him." His voice is calm, but it has an explosive tone to it.

"Why? Because it's a truth you can't handle?"

"No. It's because it's not true." After saying his cool statement, he doesn't give me any time to process his words before he grabs my hand off his shirt and shoves my shoulder aggressively. I lose all my balance from the strong force and take a step back, only to trip over and land on the bed. I close my eyes for a second from the sudden impact.

"What the hell's your-" Rubbing my face, I try to lift myself up from the bed, but the moment I do that, a pair of hands locks my wrists and pushes me back down onto the bed. Ocean blue eyes glare right into me, and my mind stops. It was Craig's eyes, his usual unreadable glare, but what I always thought to be emotionless seems to be flaming with feelings that I still can't read.

"You are wrong; you have always been." His cool voice says quietly. I can feel his warm breath stroke my cheeks. "Because the one that I always wanted- is you."

I don't get any time to sink in the words. I don't get the chance to ask him what he meant, because the next moment, my lips were sealed together by his.

Everything stops for a second. My lungs, my thoughts, even the blood passing through my veins seem to have halted. But then when my mind does come back to life reality weighs onto me, crushing me down, making me more aware and sensitive to everything.

Craig's hands held tight around my wrists secures me in my spot; my pathetic attempt to wiggle out of them doesn't seem to do anything. When I move my hands his grip tightens even more, making me feel as if the skin around my wrists were about to peal off. His thin black hair brushes my forehead and melts into my own red curls. I can feel his heart thump on top of mine, the warmth of his chest leaks into my own heart, making his temperature rush through my whole body. But over all of that what comes to me first when my mind comes to life, what hits me strongly more than anything else, is his lips.

The warmth and softness I imagined in a kiss was not there. It was just pure heat ripping the skin of my lips, burning my mouth with every caress of the soft skin. It was screaming out his emotions that I could never read: desperateness, frustration, want, lust, every emotion from him was screaming at me from his kiss. He opens his mouth and slides his tongue out, brushing the small gap between my lips eager to get in, but I bite down, not letting him get through. Every part of my body that was contacting him was on fire, my chest, wrists, lips; they were all desperate to get free from his touch. But I forget all those for a moment, because the most agonising part of me now was my lungs.

With my mouth sealed and his nose brushing against mine I forget how to breathe. I kick my feet and turn in his wrists but it was no use, I couldn't get free. From desperation I lose my thought for a second and I gasp against Craig's mouth for air, creating a small gap, and before I can process my mistake, his fiery tongue slides into my mouth. My eyes widen in shock from the sudden heat entering past my sealed lips and I instantly shut my eyelids when I feel his tongue search for my own. A small groan calls at the back of my throat as I try to escape him. I use all my energy to kick and stern in his grip, to brake away from him and his aggressive tongue. But it does nothing. And suddenly all my energy flows away from me after my last struggle, and I give into the kiss.

I let him explore my mouth, let his lips caress every part of mine. And I concentrate my mind on anything, any touch other than his lips. The heat of his breath brushes on my skin from every small intake he makes. His grip tightens around my wrists as if desperate to hold something in. I feel a small rush of saliva run down my chin and then another wet river flow past my cheeks. And I feel his kiss freeze, his grip around my wrists stiffen, and he slowly parts our lips and lifts his face away from mine, looking deeply into my eyes. But it's strange; I can't see him, I can't see anything. My whole vision is blurry. I bat my eyes and more warm liquid runs down my cheeks, making my vision a little clearer.

Craig looks at me like he's in pain. He clenches his teeth and scowls with anger and hatred, but not towards me, towards himself. I immediately understand the warm liquid running down my cheeks. I was crying, and I didn't even notice. I can't believe it.

The grip around my wrists loosens and I use that small opportunity to break away from him. I push him off of me and he stumbles over; maybe he's in shock, but I don't care. I run out the room, not even bothered to shut the door; I'm just desperate to get out of here.

Streams of tears run down my cheeks us I storm down the hallway. I desperately wipe them away but they keep on running down. I bite down in frustration, cover my eyes with the palm of my hand and look up, pleading for the tears to stop.

I hear a door slam shut and when I notice, I'm standing outside on the small pavement in the dark. The night air is cool, it even feels freezing, but it doesn't do anything to cool down my burning lips or my flushed cheeks. My knees break down underneath me and I crush down onto the cold bricks. No thoughts rush through my brain; my mind was completely blank. I feel my chest squeeze in together as my lungs work desperately for air. A small breeze brushes past me.

_It's so cold out here. _

I pull my knees to my chest and rap my arms around them. Then I bury my head into my body heat, just to keep me warm. But the parts Craig touched were still on fire.

The though disgusts me; I try to rock in my ball gently and slowly, but in my mind it's hysterically, hoping that the slight movement would distract my thoughts. I don't sob, I don't cry, even the stream of tears had stopped running down my cheeks. But that didn't help me at all; I just keep rocking.

Everything seems completely silent; I am sure that there's meant to be insects singing in the dark but my ears don't catch any of them. Then the utter silence of the night breaks with a small creaking sound coming from behind, and I shudder my rocking to a halt. I concentrate all my senses to the creaking sound, which stops shortly, then comes again quickly, ending with a calm click. My mind subconsciously analyses the sound as an opening and shutting door, then the sound of heavy footsteps comes into hearing and then it stops beside me, pausing before dropping a light thud. I know it's a person, I know who it is, I know that he just came outside and sat beside me; close enough so I could sense him, but far enough so I couldn't feel his temperature.

I try not to acknowledge his presence; I ignore him, still frozen in my spot, I don't talk to him and he doesn't talk to me. All I want to do is ignore him, but all my thoughts now seem to be dominated by him. After a few minutes his presence becomes something I can't bear, and I can't help but turn to him.

"Craig, just please fuck off" He doesn't look back to me; he just keeps his gaze on the distance, his eyebrows furrowing at whatever he is seeing.

"No" His voice doesn't have its usual mocking tone in it, it wasn't defensive or attacking, or even monotonous; it was simple, straightforward, it makes me feel like it's his true feelings. I clench my teeth together and grind my nails into my arms I was hugging, and I dig my face back into my knees.

"Please Craig; just go" All I want now is for him to go away; I don't want to accuse him or attack him; all I want is to be alone. But I don't hear anything move or feel his presence disappear from my side. I feel hopeless and vulnerable beside him now. I don't even have the energy to talk to him.

A deep silence comes between us again, making me feel more desperate by the second.

"Why?" A barely audible, shaking voice says. It takes me a moment to realise that it was my own pathetic voice. My heart sinks when I know that I was the one who broke the silence; but I don't expect him to answer, I don't expect him to do anything. Another silence comes, but then carefully, cautiously, a heavy voice answers.

"Because I felt this way towards you for a long time. And it was agonising when you thought I felt it towards someone else." His voice is still factual, but I can slightly sense that he's trying not to blurt anything unnecessary out, but he was willing to answer anything I asked.

"Do you like me?" It was a simple question, just to clarify what the kiss meant; but Craig seems to struggle with this question.

"I wouldn't say _like_" He finally answered.

But his answer made me confused and slightly aggravated. _Why the fuck would he do that if he didn't even like me?_ My heart began to race, but I can't move or speak. I'm frozen in my spot because my mind is storming with different thoughts, too busy to give any muscle in my body any order.

"It is much more stronger, and more confusing than that." His words are clear, but careful, as if trying to find the exact words that could express what he is feeling. It makes my mind clear and it brings me out of my thoughts. And when I notice, I was staring at him, and he was staring at me. He continues.

"Everything you do, everything about you, seems to stand out over everything else. It all just stands out and strikes and flares up all my emotions, and not just the good ones" He pauses and gives me a careful look. "_Especially_ not the good ones" My heart gives a sudden jolt. I try to swallow down a lump in my throat but it gets caught from nervousness. "It sometimes becomes too much; it kills just to keep it in. And I even loathe you for it." He fell silent and drifted his eyes back towards the darkness. My heart is thumping in my ears; my blood feels like it's rushing to my head, but strangely I don't feel myself blush; and neither was he. Even while he talks about his deep inner feelings he doesn't blush or jitter his words.

I search for a thousand different things to say in my head, but I can't seem to find anything. My mind is blank.

After a few seconds of silence his legs lift him up to his feet. I gape up at him and his eyes looks down at me. He was finally going to respond to my request from minutes ago. He was going to leave me alone.

He looks straight at me with piercing wrinkles between his eyebrows, which formed into his usual glare, his usual unreadable expression. But then it suddenly comes to me; now I know it wasn't a glare at all, but a way to keep something in, to restrain himself. And after that last glance, he walks back into the house; the sound of the door closing after him seems to echo endlessly in my head.

Who ever said that being cared about felt comforting and warm? Right now I feel as lonely and cold as ever.

I bring my knees back to my chest and hug them tightly with my arms; my wrists seem to burn unnaturally as I do.

XXX

I always thought I knew the truth; but in reality, I didn't know anything.

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><p><strong>A.N- Eep! How was that? I hope that chapter (especially the kiss scene) didn't suck too much ass… in a bad way. I wonder who Stan talked to on the phone and what made him so angry *eyes wonders off* Anyway, I'm kinda struggling with the next chapter so some feedback or even a smiley face would be great (for motivation)! Thanks for reading!<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**A.N- Thanks so much for all those who read and special thanks for those who reviewed! They go down better than Gatorade and make me wanna write more XD. But I am sorry for the slow update. Schoolwork sucks (and it will get worse) and I was so tired. I couldn't write after midnight. This isn't the best chapter but… Anyway I hope you enjoy!**

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><p>When the icy air pinching my skin became too much to bear I finally told myself that it was time I should get back inside. The last thing I wanted at that point was to get sick. I shivered as I freed my legs from my chest; the cold made me forget that it was summer.<p>

I shut the front door quietly, careful not to wake anyone up. I didn't know how long I was sitting outside in the cold for. It could have been hours, which is what it felt like, or it could have only been a few minutes.

Inside the house was even darker than the outside, for there were no stars or moonlight to light up the house. It was barely possible to walk through the front door. It was also colder, but maybe that was just my imagination. I gave a glance to the right where the bedroom doors were lined up against the hall. They were all dead silent. Without hesitation I made my way to the left end of the hall towards the kitchen and lounge room: I wasn't exactly ready to go back to the bedroom. By that time my head wasn't throbbing anymore, but my chest still seemed to weigh all my body down. It exhausted me. I needed to be alone.

The lounge room was surprisingly bright; it even made me flinch for a second since my eyes were adapted more to the pitch-dark house. The magnificent window, stretched across the majority of the wall entered all the stars and moonlight in welcomingly. I think I would have thought it beautiful if I weren't so tired.

I stood there for a few minutes, staring at the lighten room with a vacant mind. I bet if anyone saw me they would have thought that I was crazy or possessed or something. Then suddenly a sharp ringing noise broke the calm silence, bringing me back to consciousness with a jolt. The phone on the wall was lit, flashing rhythmically to the ringing. I stared at it, frozen on my spot with my heart pounding. Eventually the ringing stopped, replaced by a mechanical voice saying its usual 'please leave a message after the beep'. _Beep_.

"Kyle? Kyle answer the phone" It was a familiar voice, sounding irritated and frustrated at me for some reason. It was Ike, calling me in the middle of the night.

"Kyle I know you're there. I can fucking see you from the cameras" I looked up at the ceiling, and sure enough, the video cameras were zooming in on me. Keeping my eyes on the cameras, I picked up the phone.

"Ike, it's the middle of the night-"

"Kyle!" His energetic voice cut me in; his tone was a pitch higher than usual. It made me wince. "Are you okay? Man, I feel really bad. It's as if I jinxed you after telling you specifically not to get molested before you left" He didn't give me any chance to speak. He spoke quickly with worry. I chuckled lifelessly at him.

"I didn't get molested Ike. But yeah, maybe I should have touched wood after you said that."

"Nobody better touch your wood-" I thought I heard him mumble something under his breath but I wasn't able to catch it.

"What?"

"Nothing"

I frowned into the phone, forgetting that he won't be able to see if I wasn't facing the cameras. He gave out a heavy sigh into the phone; the sound tickled my ear.

"Fine, if you say so." _I didn't say anything._ His shrug was obvious even from over the phone, so I shrugged back.

"Well good luck bro, you'll need it" He hanged the phone up quite instantly after that. He had a pretty cool character for his age.

I placed the phone back in its place calmly, and then walked heavily to the couch. I dropped back onto it and it seemed to sink up all my body weight into its unlimited comfort. A heavy sigh escaped my mouth from relaxation. Finally, I was able to sleep. I brought my legs up onto the softness and let the comfort drag my body into a deep sleep.

XXX

I wake up from what felt like a dreamless sleep. My legs happened to be curled up to my chest, struggling to stay on my small spot on the large couch. The room is lit up from the early sun. I hate how summer has early sunrises.

When I shakily push my body up my whole body lets out a loud crack! making me wince at the sound. God, my whole body was so stiff. Trying to loosen up my muscles I stretch my arms up in the air and something slides off my shoulders. Still dazed, I look down at the fabric that fell off onto the floor.

That's strange. I don't remember having a blanket when I fell asleep.

My arms drop down by my side subconsciously as my mind wonders about the blanket, and I notice another thing as my hand brushes against the area of the couch beside me. It was warm, but not as heated as the area I was just sleeping on. My mind swims through different possibilities but with my dopey morning brain I can't really think straight. I stop my thoughts when I begin to wonder about the possibilities of Santa being real or if it was just a random old guy in a family business. Damn, I'm really out of it. My eyes slowly wonder off to the clock on the wall. 6am. No wonder my mind is dead.

"Kyle?" A jittery voice calls my name and I realise that I have been staring at the clock for quite some time. I swing my head towards the kitchen and see the spiky-haired blond staring at me with anxious eyes. "Are you okay? Gh, why are you up so early?"

My mind swims off again on a calm river, forgetting for a second that Tweek was talking to me.

_Huh, what? Oh yeah._ "I love you too Tweek"

He shrieks. "Kyle! Pressure!" I ignore his outburst. Man, I can't believe that I'm awake at 6 in the morning.

"Can you make me coffee?" I ask him simply. Please, anything to clear up even a spec of dust from my mind. He doesn't answer, but rushes straight to the coffee machine with a grin. It's strange how it makes him so happy when someone asks him to make some coffee.

After a few minutes of blanking out I hear Tweek sit beside me and I look up at the cup he was holding out for me. "Thanks Tweek" He smiles bashfully at me, slightly twitching like he always does. I sigh breathlessly after inhaling the aroma of the perfectly blended coffee. Honestly, once you get used to Tweek Tweak's coffee nothing else does the trick. It's perfection. I feel his anxious eyes digging into the side of my face, making my sips extra loud from the uncomfortable stare.

"Kyle is everything okay?" My lips freeze on the mug. In that second he asks me that question, what seems to be all the memories of last night instantly rush through my head, not leaving out any details. The subtle sound of my thumping heart echoes in my ears and my lips suddenly feel like they are on fire.

"Yeah-yeah I'm okay" A simple lie. I can still feel Tweek's worried eyes screwing holes into my face. God, why is it that the simple lies that I tell never convince anyone? But I don't say anything, even when I know that Tweek's waiting for a more detailed explanation. Then I feel his eyes flicker and he suddenly stands up.

"Kyle I'm going to go for my morning walk and hmngh!" He let out a small hiccup. "Do you want to come with?" I gape up at him with disbelief, and his eyes become a little uneasy at my stare.

"You do morning walks?" He nods uncontrollably.

"Argh! Only while I'm here! It's really calm and refreshing about this time, and since I don't have much else to ngh, do" As he finishes off his sentence he falls into his subtle shaking.

I look through the large window that was letting in the outside light in. The fog was still swimming around the trees but I had to agree that it looked refreshing. It suddenly gave me the urge to sink myself into the mysteriousness.

"Yeah, sure."

XXX

'Walking was one of the best ways to get your mind off aggravating things' is what I learnt three years ago when I was having a nice long walk on the beach, but now I think I have proven myself wrong. The empty sound of footsteps doesn't distract my confused brain; I can't see far through the heavy fog that does nothing but portray my own feelings, and Tweek's spontaneous twitches or quiet shrieks doesn't do much to comfort me. But I guess it's better than sitting on that stupid couch hopelessly. That couch… I wonder who gave me that blanket while I was asleep, and I wonder whose warmth it was that lingered on the spot next to me. Maybe there wasn't any warmth there to begin with. I was half dreaming anyway.

Random questions kept popping up in my head, questions that I couldn't answer. They just came and then flowed away, and then came back up again. What seemed like a few seconds past until I bump into Tweek's surprisingly firm back.

"Damn it Tweek, don't suddenly stop-" When my eyes adjust to the surroundings I find that we have arrived at the lake. That's weird; it would have took us over half an hour to get here with the slow pace we were walking with.

"I just come here every morning and walk around the lake and go back." Tweek's voice says, reminding me that I wasn't alone. "But I don't mngh, think I'd walk around the lake today. It takes about half an hour to walk around the whole gah! thing. –Kyle?" His anxious voice calls out my name, bringing me out my blank mind and reminding me that I was being talked to.

"Yeah?" I can see by his pursing lips and firm eyes that he's worried about my absent mind. My brain feels like it's just been washed out by a tsunami and I'm too tired to care or do anything about it.

"Do you want to go back with me?"

Gentle wind brushes the surface of the lake, creating subtle waves and then flows past us, disappearing into the woods. The feel of its tender brush when it passed through me felt soothingly refreshing. For a brief second it even feels like it cleared my mind.

"No, you can go. I think I'll stay a little longer." I look at him for what feels like the first time today, and give him a reassuring smile. His worried lips are still pursed firmly together, but he nods deeply and brings his head back up with a smile on his face.

I don't watch him as he goes back into the woods. I'm still surprised that he can walk alone in the fog so early in the morning while no one's awake. The heads of the trees block out most of the morning sunlight and the dense fog fades any rays that break through. The mysterious atmosphere even gives me the creeps.

I walk towards the lake, the only area free from trees, blessed by the warm morning light. The brightness even blinds me as I walk out of the darkness. As the blinding light slowly settles down I look up into the sky, the treetops forms the sky into an oval shape. My eyes widen with astonishment at the absolute blue, not a spec of clouds floating and blocking out the view. It's a view that could not be seen from in the woods, or anywhere else in the area in fact. But its perfectly clear, refreshing beauty creates a slight annoyance in me; it just contrasts too much with my crumpled mind of tangled knots. The crystal blue makes me envious of the sky.

Walking around the lake couldn't be more spectacularly boring. Without a person, or my own mind to argue against I have nothing but the sound of grinding pebbles to keep me company. _Nice and boring. _I let out a small snort. I hated anything mind-numbingly boring but right now, I couldn't want anything else.

By the time I make it all around the lake, the fog had almost completely cleared, letting in some light through the woods. Everyone should be awake by now, but I still don't have any desire to go back. Instead I find a perfect rock to sit on and rest my overly heavy body on it. Sudden fatigue overcomes me from the restless night. I bring my knees up to my chest and dig my face into the cuddle, forming a comforting darkness over my face.

That always helps me fall asleep.

XXX

Gentle fingers brush my hair. I can feel my self-centred curls twisting around on them. The fingers don't seem to mind though. They twirl playfully around on the strands before releasing them onto my closed eyes, making my eyelids twitch. But that was only my subconscious picking it up; my mind, half asleep, could barely process anything. For a second, the fingers don't do anything more to me, so I use that chance to crawl back into the relaxing sleep. Faint voices whispers around in my shallow dream but I ignore them.

Suddenly firm hands grab onto my shoulders and I feel my face being pulled out from my knees, from the perfect darkness. I groan as the bright light attack my eyelids, turning my vision into bright red.

"Kyle!"

My eyelids fling open at the familiar voice. The hands finally stop rocking me as the person notices my awoken and shocked expression. I am woken up from my nice, simple dreams and forced back into the blinding reality; the reality much more valuable than any dream, yet the reality that I would do anything to avoid.

"Stan?" I rub my eyes as I listen to him let go of my shoulders with a relieved sigh. "What are you doing here?"

He looks at me slightly confused and taken aback by my question. "I just came looking for you. Dude, you were missing for like, four hours" Four hours… Wow, that's a long time.

I can tell for myself that my brain wasn't thinking straight, and I'm pretty sure Stan can tell too. He looks at me with troubled eyes, unsure what to do with this daydreaming shrimp. And he asks me the one thing I didn't want him to ask.

"What's wrong?" My body freezes at the question. But using all my shaking muscles in my cheeks I am able to form the most awkward smile.

"Nothing, Stan I'm fine" The words forced out of my mouth aren't very convincing and they definitely don't manage to fool Stan. His lips purse together and his eyebrows slightly furrow, but I keep my shaky smile.

"You slept on the couch last night" Stan states, simply. It wipes the fake smile off my face, falling back into my shocked expression.

"How- how did you know-" My mouth shuts and closes like a gold fish, panicked words escaping out with empty breaths. Then sudden memory comes to me. The couch when I woke up this morning: the unfamiliar blanket and the warmed area beside me. Was that all Stan?I eagerly wait for his answer, but most of my emotions were dominated by embarrassment. But Stan merely shrugs with a pursed smile.

"Everyone knows that Kyle. Tweek told all of us why you weren't at the house and how you were acting strange this morning." _Oh- _So everyone knew huh? Fucking ace. "So why were you sleeping on the couch?" He adds. My mind stops dead again at his question. I wasn't expecting it. This question might be worse than his previous one.

"I just felt like it." My heart began to beat really fast, blood whooshing through my brain with so much speed it makes me dizzy. Nervous. I am nervous. What happened last night was something I didn't want to tell anyone and it was something that I desperately didn't want Stan to know. Even if he couldn't care less, I don't want him to know that I kissed another person, especially another boy. Another boy-. I look up and smile at the worried looking guy. "It's okay, seriously, it's nothing"

To avoid any more questions I quickly get off the rock and give my back a quick stretch before beginning to walk, ready to head home. But suddenly, I'm grabbed firmly by the arm; the warm temperature captures my skin. In that second, a million thoughts rush through my brain, too fast to for me to process any of them, but after that instance my arm aggressively tears away from the grasp. The movement was like a reflex, the speed of it making my lungs hungry for air. I look back hesitantly into the surprised and somehow hurt expression of Stan's sapphire eyes. My heart feels a sharp pinch and I can only watch him, watch him as his wide eyes slowly narrow in suspicion.

"Was it Craig?"

A loud thump echoes somewhere in my chest then everything freezes. Stan looks at me, without his usual warmth or comfort shining in his eyes. They were dark and confronting, an unfamiliar look that shoots a shiver down my spine.

"W-why would you think that?" My words shake as they squeeze out of my anxious smile. I try to laugh as if his question was ridiculous, but it comes out like a gargle in my throat. But he doesn't change his expression. He stares at me, right through me, and it makes my forced smile sink.

"Last night you were still normal, well, a little raged after Cartman's announcement but nothing unusual, you know?" He lightly shrugs before continuing. "And then suddenly Tweek said that you were acting strange: quiet, blank, sleeping on the couch, waking up at 6am!" I'm a little bewildered at his statement. People became quiet and blank, we aren't always energetic; and me being pissed off at Craig wasn't such a great deal, nothing that would make me sleep on the couch, right? I mean, what was it that made it so strange that it was me who was doing those things? Was I not allowed to wake up at 6am without receiving suspicion?

"What does that have to do with you thinking that he had done anything to me?" It was a logical question though. Me acting strange wouldn't automatically lead to Craig would it? But Stan drops his cool look for an instant, looking somehow surprised at my question. He shuffles a bit in my spot and I gain a small spec of confidence at his troubled behaviour.

"He was the last with you last night, so, it makes sense." It's not the most convincing answer and he knows it. His earlier dark voice had gained a higher pitch, showing his worry. I sigh, mostly in relief. At least now he would give up about pouring questions onto me about Craig.

"Come on Stan, let's go back." I tug on the hem of his sleeve, indicating him to follow me back to the house. He stares down at my fingers pulling him towards the woods, but I ignore his stare and continue my attempt of dragging him back.

"Yeah, we should. Craig's making some kiss biscuits with-"

Everything stops. My mind automatically emphasises 'Craig' and 'kiss'. I stop in my spot, my fingers frozen stuck on Stan's sleeve. Under his sleeve, I could feel his skin burn and begin to shake.

"He did! He fucking did didn't he!"

"What. Who?" Playing dumb wasn't the best option right now. Stan waved his arms for dramatic affect, freeing himself from my weak grasp. He glares at me and I wince, even when I could feel that his anger wasn't directed at me.

"Craig." He said simply, calmly. "He _did_ do something to you didn't he?" My heart began to pound anxiously. It was just a small jolt at Craig's name, yet that was enough to give Stan a clue. But apparently he didn't get the 'kiss' part. "Tell me," He began slowly, deep and clear with every word. "What did he do?"

My mouth opens and closes, spewing out defensive sounds that made no sense. The only thing I want is for him not to know what happened, and he was inches away from finding out. I can feel my blood rush to my head, mind searching frantically for explanations or a way to avoid answering him directly.

"He didn't do anything to me!" I screech out automatically. "As if he would!"

Despite my loud voice Stan doesn't drop his narrowed eyes; he barely changes expression. He says calmly "Kyle, don't lie"

I feel my knees tremble under my weight and I shake my head desperately. "No! Stan, please, he didn't do anything!" His hard expression softens slightly into his kind worry, but it's not enough to calm my hysterical anxiety. And my mouth opens, without thought, and pours out my last defence.

"And even if he did, I would never tell _you_!"

It takes me a second to register whose voice it was that shouted those words. I pant, my chest cooling down like an aftermath of a storm. My stiffened eyes hesitantly look up at Stan and my heart stops beating at his expression. His arms lie lifelessly beside his stiffened body. His mouth hangs half open, frozen with nothing to say and his eyes widen with shock and even worse, hurt. And it makes me realise that it was me who said those words. The minute I know it's me I immediately regret it. All my cells in my body pray for the words to be taken back.

"Stan?" He twitches at my weak voice and his eyes seem to come back into focus, focus on me.

"So that's what you think, huh?" His calm voice makes my body lose all its temperature, and I wish for my hands to cover my ears so that I couldn't hear his next words. "Fine." The simplicity of his word, of his tone and voice kills me.

_Fine?_ Something says within me. _Of course it's not fine! _But when I notice Stan's not there. I turn around to find him melt into the shadows of the woods, heading back to the house alone.

"Wait!" I shout, but he doesn't respond. The pebbles grind under my feet as I kick off into a clumsy sprint. When I enter the woods I shoot my eyes in every direction, looking for the raven-haired boy, but I can't see him. He has already disappeared into his way home. I frantically dig my fingers into my hair with frustration, insane regret and hatred for myself. Everyone had their own secret path in the woods to go to places, so once I lose track of Stan there was no way to find him until I reach the house. "Stan" My voice is weak, definitely not enough to echo through the trees: definitely not enough to reach Stan.

The easiest way to talk to him now is to go back to the house my own way and meet him there. But my eyes stay on Stan's secret path, my mind stays washed out and helpless. I don't think straight. My brain directly sends orders to my body without processing the thoughts of any consequences. And before I know it, I'm running into the unknown woods, looking for Stan.

XXX

It didn't take me long to regret my actions of running off into the woods. By the time my mind was awake and I was panting my lungs out I had figured that I was completely, hopelessly lost.

I walk through the gaps between the unfamiliar trees, searching up in the treetops for any kind of sign that would magically take me home. Even the sun's position would be helpful, but the view of the sky is blocked out by the high trees: the only source of light is the subtle glowing of the leaves blocking any direct sunlight. I didn't know that there was such a dark place in the woods. I have been walking around for what seems to be hours, but it might have been only minutes, I don't know. The mind tearing anxiety had passed, leaving me with a tired brain with the urge to just drop down on the ground and give up. But my feet keep on moving deeper into the woods, half-subconsciously. I think I learnt somewhere that when you're lost it was best to just stay put on your spot, but who has such a cool mind that could actually do that? I know I don't.

My pace has dropped to a ponderous ramble, nearly tripping over my tired feet with every step. The slow and heavy gait leaves my mind to think. _Was it truly necessary to keep the kiss from Stan, to say horrible things to him? Would it be better if I have just told him, I mean, it's not like he would've cared, right? Maybe he would get pissed at Craig if he knew that Craig forced the gay kiss on me, but what if I told him that I was gay. Would he care then? No, he wouldn't. He'd just probably smile awkwardly and stay away from then on. _All my thoughts were turning into meaningless rubbles, slowly sucking away any positive feelings that are left inside me. But I can't really get myself to care. Releasing a deep sigh, I look down at my feet and I ask myself: "What am I doing?" Wobbling around like a lost hobo with my mind swimming in negative questions. Dude, where is my mind?

Then a sudden rustling of leaves and dry twigs enters my ears and I swing my head around in reflex to the sound. I stare at the tree behind me, where I thought the sound came from. It was still and silent, no sign of existence there. Maybe it was just my imagination. But even so, my heart was subtly thumping nervously.

"Hello?" The word squeezes out doubtfully through my dry throat. It made me sound weak; I didn't like that. "Hello?" I say it a little louder this time, to try and inform that I wasn't weak. But this time the word comes out shaky, making me sound anxious and desperate. I didn't like that even more. Ignoring any imaginary sounds that I just heard I begin to walk again, but now with aggressive kicks, just to make myself seem more fierce and strong.

Staring straight ahead and swinging my arms dramatically makes my fast legs hard to keep balance. And in a matter of seconds I trip over my feet and land face straight into the ground with a loud _smack_! Sharp pain shoots through my nose, blood rushing to my smacked face. The hot blood is humiliating and the pain is throbbing but it lamely seems to clear my entangled mind, and my earlier question repeats in my head: _what am I doing? _

My arms push my limp body up into a lazy sit, the inner side of my legs touching the pinning ground in a shape of an 'M'. If only I wasn't wearing these stupid short shorts the twigs won't be pinning into my skin. But I don't care. I let out a breathless sigh into the ground and sink myself into my uncomfortable stance.

XXX

Time goes slowly when you're sitting on the ground with your legs spread unnaturally in an uncomfortable way. My brain seems to have melted into the quiet environment, like it has 'become one with the trees' or something gay like that. Basically my mind is blank. My brain doesn't even react to the sound of gentle footsteps grinding the twigs on the ground. But my eyes do catch a pair of baggy sneakers plant in front of me.

I look up slowly from the shoes, up through the white sweat pants, then the loose white t-shirt and up to the deep blue eyes looking down at me gently, but hesitantly. His eyes flicker as they meet mine, and my heart begins to thump lightly in my chest.

"Stan" I whisper his name and my mind begins to process the person standing in front of me. My heart begins to feel like it's expanding in my ribs, inflating with words, apologies that I needed to pour out.

"Stan! I'm sorry!" His gentle eyes widen in surprise but I continue to burst out. "I didn't mean what I said, I mean, it's true that I don't want to tell you, but it's not because I don't trust you or anything!" I don't process the words in my head before rolling them off my tongue. He looks at me blankly with wide eyes, still surprised, but then they drop slowly back into his gentle expression. Gentle, but cheerless.

"Then why did you say that?"

The question slightly twinges my stomach. Guilt comes back to me and it makes me break the eye contact, dropping my eyes back onto the ground.

"I wanted to tell you but-" I gulp down a block of air before continuing. "I just- don't want you to know" My heartbeat begins to pick up speed. Gulping won't help anymore, there's just too much clamped in my throat now. I just hope my words sounded sincere enough that he'd forgive me. I sit there, waiting for a reaction from Stan, whether it was yelling or simply walking away from me. But nothing I expect comes.

"Come on"

I doubt my ears for a second because of the warmness in the gentle voice. It couldn't have been directed at me, could it? In front of my eyes, blocking my vision of the ground is an outstretched hand, its elegant fingers seems to be waiting for me. I slowly look up in slight confusion and find Stan with a kind smile and accepting eyes; I lose my self in his gaze.

"Let's go back" He adds, and wiggles his fingers, indicating for me to grab them. My whole body fills with relief and the guilt flows away out through the tips of my toes, but then I find something utterly wrong. I frantically shake my head at his hand and he frowns.

"I can't!" I choke out.

"Why?"

I hiccup and then hot blood rushes to my face; I can feel scarlet dyeing my cheeks. Stan looks down at me and pulls back his hand with confusion and subtle amusement. Just as I sigh in relaxation with his retreat, strong hands grab my underarms and lift me up.

"No, wait- Stop!" But it's too late. The second my feet contact the ground an electric shock shoots through my legs and I yell in agony. Stan drops me in surprise and I crush to the ground, still wailing from the agonising tickling sensation that rushes through my feet. The unusual stance that I was keeping on the ground had created severe pins and needles in my feet.

"K-Kyle! Are you okay?" Stan asks panicked at my sudden moaning, but was that, oh-so-subtle chuckling I hear in his voice?

"Fuck! No- damn you Stan..." I can't stop my shaky laugh from the tickling in my feet, but it's not funny in the least. Rolling on the ground, I hug my feet hoping for the pins and needles to go away, but it only seems to get worse. My eyes begin to water, which humiliates me even more.

Then suddenly, I'm swung into the air, my legs dangle comfortably and it feels like I'm floating. But I screech when I analyse my position.

"No! Not fucking bridle style! Stan put me down!" I'm tucked inside Stan's arms like a baby; it makes me feel like I'm a fucking infant! I wiggle desperately in his arms and he only laughs my attempts away. My cheeks is nothing cute like scarlet anymore: I can feel that they're blood-shot red. And then suddenly, I'm swung around just too easily onto his back. He ties me close to him by securing my legs with his arms. I can still feel my cheeks glowing, but at least now, he won't be able to see them.

XXX

My legs seemed to stay numb all the way back to the circular house, so I had no choice but to hung on to Stan's back. You know those baby monkeys that hang onto their mother's fur? That's what I fucking felt like, embarrassing huh?

We finally arrive at the house when my chest began to numb from rubbing against Stan's muscle-toned back. Everyone was waiting outside for us: Kenny, smirking awkwardly at us; Tweek, panicked with the decision whether to enlighten his paled-face or to screech at my vulnerable position on Stan's back; and then-

I stiffen in Stan's back as my eyes meet Craig's. His deep ocean-blue orbs staring into mine: another expression I couldn't read. My arms automatically push against Stan's back in the attempt to break away; but to my surprise, Stan tugs onto my legs, not letting me break free. He stares at Craig with frustration and- resent? And Craig glares right back at him. The electrifying air around these two is something I don't want to endure.

"Stan, I'm alright now. You can put me down."

"Huh?" My words seem to bring Stan out of his hatred. "Oh, yeah" And he gently lets me slide off of his back. No ticklishness shoots through my feet as I land on the ground and I breathe out a heavy breath, which turns into a sigh half way out. I hear everyone enter the house. When I look up, my eyes land on the back of the raven's head, and a strange mixture of boiling rage, cool exhaustion and just complete confusion sink into the pits of my stomach.

I get the feeling that some friggin' long days are waiting ahead of me.

XXX

11pm. That's what the clock says, and from the darkness outside I don't think I need to doubt it. Everyone has already gone to their rooms, except for me. I just sit on the couch I had become _so_ attached to. I'm not ready to go back to my room yet. I look down on the seat beside me, on it, is a neatly folded blanket from last night. I didn't put it there. It makes me sigh; it's as if it knows how really gutless I am.

Sitting on the couch debating whether it was time I should fall asleep, I hear soft footsteps of bare feet. I look over my shoulder and smile weakly when my eyes meet Stan's.

"I thought you went to bed" I ask him as he sits down next to me.

"Nah" Is his simple response, and then silence. Why is it that silence always comes between us? Or was it just me being too conscious about it? The quiet is nice and relaxing, but there was one thing I wanted to tell him all afternoon.

"Thanks Stan"

His ebon hair flicks in his eyes as he turns to face me, surprised with the sudden thanks.

"Why?"

"For finding me."

He still looks confused and I chuckle before explaining.

"I mean, I said something pretty harsh to you but you still came looking for me when I was lost and well, you found me." His eyes widen with realisation then his cheeks blush slightly. He turns his head away, digging half his face into his arm resting on the chair arm. My smile widens at his reaction and I try to look into his hidden expression. He's so bashful. Then I hear him murmur something into his palm, which I couldn't really catch.

"Hmm?" I hum in a questioning tone, still grinning amusingly. He doesn't look back at me, but takes his mouth off of his palm and repeats what he just said.

"I didn't find you" His voice drops to a tone of slight regret.

"Huh?"

He gives me a short, bitter glance from the corner of his eye, and looks away again.

"Craig did."

* * *

><p><strong>A.N-Okay so that was an understatement. This chapter sucked. I'm sorry. I was thinking of putting much more in this chapter but then it went over 6K and I was like "bloody hell mate how much did I drabble on for!" so it has to wait till the next chapter. I don't think there's very much to go with this story, maybe about three chapters. But dunno since planned chapters are getting divided into two- or three. Ah well. Thanks for reading!<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**A.N- Thanks again for reading, and major thanks for reviewing! Love! I kinda left the last chapter hanging and this one wasn't a fast update- sorry. **

**My writing in this chapter is s-h-i-t. Seriously. I've been reading in Japanese all week (no English texts D:) because my friend recommended this awesome story on the internet- anyway, I'm even worried that you may not understand some bits in this chapter. *sigh* **

**Well, I hope you guys enjoy it!**

**Oh, by the way I changed the scene switching from 'XXX' to '*'. I like changing those things.**

* * *

><p>"Craig found me?"<p>

I look at Stan with disbelief, or even more, confusion. What he just said made no sense. I clearly remember that it was _Stan_ that found me lost in the woods and it was _Stan_ that carried me all the way back. I didn't even see Craig today until I arrived back at the house with Stan this afternoon.

"What do you mean?"

He keeps his head turned away from me, but I can still tell from the back of his head that he still has his bitter look. Then he murmurs something inaudible into his palm, and I emit a questioning sound for him to repeat.

"It's exactly what it means" His voice sounds frustrated, like he can't reach somewhere on his back that itches, but again I can sense that his hard tone wasn't directed at me. He pauses, and lets out a deep sigh before taking his chin off his palm and turns his twisted neck so that I could at least see the side of his face. The bitter expression had dropped into a more calm, somehow defeated colour, even apologetic.

"Kenny was really pissed off when I came back without you, at least I think he was. He asked me 'Where's Kyle?' with narrowed eyes and that was enough to make me realise the terrible mistake I made. I was hurt by your words but I shouldn't have left you-" He gives me a quick glance from the corner of his eye. "I'm sorry"

I shrug off his sincere apology. I knew that it was my entire fault anyway, but I also knew that he would deny that so I keep it to myself.

"So when I realised my mistake I ran out the door only to be stopped by Kenny. He said that it would be better to wait for you there since we didn't know your secret way home. So we waited for a while and I became really jittery with every minute. Then Craig came, it was the first time I saw him today, and he looked around boringly and asked where you were, since you were the only one not there, so I told him. Then without looking back, he just walked past me and went out the front door. I automatically followed him, and Kenny and Tweek came after us too. He began to walk straight into the woods but I stopped him when I realised what he was doing." He gives me another apologetic glance before continuing.

"When I stopped him he looked at me with his usual expressionless face and said 'haven't you waited enough?' which brought me to realisation that it was time that you should have been back. I felt panic, also guilt, then I tried to run into the woods until he "coolly" stopped me. He's so annoying!" The last sentence comes out as a breath, which I think he didn't intend for me to hear so I ignore it. "He said that we should split up to look for you, so that's what we did. I was pretty out of it while we were looking for you, I mean, it was my fault if you got lost and- anyway I was looking for you but I couldn't find you anywhere so I began to feel pretty paranoid. That's when I heard someone call my name: it was Craig, which killed my small hopes when I knew it was him.

"I asked him annoyingly why he was calling me and he looked at me distastefully, which I knew was similar to the expression I had on towards him.

"He said that he had found you. And I felt myself twitch in disbelief. I asked him why he didn't get you then he slightly shrugged and said 'I shouldn't talk to him right now' It wasn't his usual 'I don't want to get him because I'm an asshole' tone, it was more like 'I shouldn't get him because I know he wouldn't want to' tone." Stan leaves his mouth open and I wait for his next words. But his mouth closes and he turns his neck to face me.

"I know he did something to you"

I jolt in a chill surprise from his sudden comment. His eyes are calm but they tell me, force me into thinking that I will soon have to tell him what Craig had done last night. It makes me gulp down a chunk of nerves, which gets stuck half way down, thanks to Stan's stare. But he doesn't confront me about what Craig had done and continues instead.

"After Craig told me that, I went straight to get you, but then I found you sunken into the ground. The sight of you cooled me down, in a both good and bad way. And yeah… you know what happened after that."

But truth is I am still confused about what he just said. So basically it was Craig who found me, but he asked Stan to get me since he felt too- whatever to get me himself, right? But if Craig found me wouldn't I have noticed? Then a short flashback flushes through my head. The subtle rustle of the trees- then I walked away and tripped. That rustle in the trees- could that have been him?

"Kyle?"

Stan's anxious voice brings me out of my thoughts and I realise that I've kept him hanging after he finished his narration. I apologise quickly with a crooked smile and he returns a warm one back. Thank god. His smile wipes my crooked one off and I sigh in relief. Everything icy in me magically melts away. It feels like I haven't seen his warm smile since yesterday.

"Are you going to sleep on the couch again tonight?" He nods at the blanket beside me and I frown at how neatly it's folded, waiting anxiously to be used again.

"Yeah" I answer shamefully. "Just for tonight." I nod lightly, hoping that it would somehow strengthens my answer. But I'm not exactly sure if I'll be able to go back to the bedroom tomorrow night either. I don't know if Stan just read my doubtful expression, but he nods firmly and stands up.

"I should let you go to sleep then." He says. "I wish I could invite you to my room but, because of Cartman's stupid rules-" I chuckle at his wish as he shrugs bitterly, but then lets out his own laugh.

"Good night" The words choke out his throat as he tries to calm his laugh down.

"Yeah. 'Night"

I can't help but smile as I watch him go back to his room. Despite the not-so cheerful conversation we just had we were able to end the day with a laugh. I shake my head as I reflect on how simple-minded we could be.

The neat blanket catches my eye and I feel my head stop dead in its shaking. It's strange how one stupid blanket could dampen my spirits. Was it because it reminded me of how much of a sissy I was? Or was it that it reminded me of how idiotic I could be? I don't know, but it tells me how simple-minded I am, and not in a friendly way like I just referred Stan and myself as. But it's my source of warmth and comfort for the night, so I open up the perfectly folded thing and cuddle myself in it. Despite how it made me feel, it was one of the most comfortable and warming blanket I've ever had.

Waking up is always hard business, even when it's past 10am. I almost gasp in shock when I check the time; I hardly ever wake up after 9 o'clock. The clattering of cutlery rings in my ears and I face towards the kitchen and find Kenny tackling the dirty dishes.

"Oh, hey Kyle." He says and looks around suspiciously. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

I mumble something out to him that I can't really comprehend. He grins, and goes back to the dishes.

My mind is in a daze. The sunlight completely coated the room, and to the just-awoken eyes it was even blinding. I don't know how I slept in this room. Yesterday must have really worn me out, but then again, nearly everyday since I got in here has been absolutely tiring.

"Kyle!"

I jump at the sudden call of my voice and find Kenny leaning over me still dozed on the couch.

"You okay man?" His voice isn't really anxious, more frustrated that my mind wasn't focused on him who was standing right in front of me.

"Yeah, I'm just tired Kenny. I mean just woke up, what do you expect?" He smiles widely at my answer and drops himself next to me on the couch, spreading his arms relaxingly over the back.

"Cleaning man, it does not fit with this one Kenny McCormick." He sighs out exhaustingly, and I chuckle at him. But at my chuckle he cocks his head towards me with a confident smirk, which makes me stop dead in my laugh.

"So-" He wraps his arm around my shoulder and brings me closer into him. "What's up with you and Stan?" His whisper tickles my ears, but it's not his close distance that makes my cheeks blush.

"What the- what do you mean?" The words that come out my mouth are shaky and high-pitched. Not exactly holding your cool (if you have any) are you Kyle?

"What I mean is-" Using the hand of the arm around my shoulder and his other one, he brings his two index fingers together, bringing me closer into him as he does. "You guys are getting pre-tty close I believe." His two index fingers dance in front of my nose annoyingly, so I flick them away.

"Fuck off Kenny. We are getting closer- but it's as friends. You know he'll never like me the way I do him." The last sentence escapes my mouth quickly, but even as I say it, I can't help but feel I twinge of pain in my chest. I think it shows in my face, because Kenny stops playing with his fingers and frowns down at me.

"You never know Kyle. There might be tons of gay guys out there that you just don't know of." I can't help but let out a bitter smirk.

"Yeah. Coming from a straight guy."

"Hey I'm not straight!" He brings his hand to his chest, acting out dramatically a sincere confession. "The type of sex doesn't matter to me, if only it has some action." A moment of silence freezes us both, and then we burst into uncontrollable laughter. Nothing's even funny; it's just all stupid.

"No- but really" Kenny tries to choke out in between his cackles. "What happened yesterday when Stan found you? I'm dying to know why the fuck he was carrying you back."

"Stan-" I stop dead as I think through what I was about to say. Stan- didn't find me. It was-

"Craig…"

"Huh?"

Kenny's confused voice snaps me back into reality. Oh god, did I just say Craig's name aloud? The blond looks at me with- not so much suspicion, but more like pure curiosity. But I stay silent, and Kenny stays silent. After a moment without sound Kenny finally lets out a breath, indicating giving up waiting for an answer, and stands up.

"We left you some breakfast Kyle" He says with a smile, making me forget the some-what awkward conversation we just had. And I follow him into the kitchen were two straps of bacon were waiting for me.

I punch him in the guts, and then he shows me a plate of pancakes. They look like the ones we had the other morning by the campfire.

Once I finish all the pancakes I realise the time, and I also remember that I was the one who had lunch duty. I wish I could just make a salad and call it a meal but to the others, food does not come without carbohydrate.

"Do you need help?"

A gentle voice rings in my ears and I get my head out of the fridge to look at Stan. In my arms are bread, chicken, lettuce, cheese, cucumber and various types of other ingredients I am not really familiar with. Yeah, I am making sandwiches for lunch, is that a crime?

"No thanks, I'm good." I manage out trying to keep all the ingredients in my arms. I can hear him chuckle at my struggle but I can't glare at him because I need all my concentration on my full arms.

Finally, I manage to drop the ingredients on the table, my arms release in exhaustion as I catch my breath. The light chuckle tickles my ears and I look up at Stan, not feeling amused with being laughed at.

"What's so funny?" I was only desperate to get everything out of the fridge by myself, was that frigging comedy? Stan's chuckle dies down as I eye him with dissatisfaction, or just an annoyed pout.

"Well, it's not exactly funny, but-" He cuts off as he focuses his eyes in on me, and the glittering shine in them drops into a calm warmness. His expression seems to be a mix of amusement, kindness, and somehow seriousness and pity. To be honest, I'm a little taken aback by his expression, and I feel my pout wash away.

"You always try to do everything yourself without asking for anyone's help-especially mine, and it's reckless, even hard to watch sometimes…" He looks as though he's hesitating what to say next, or struggling to find the words that would express his inner feelings. "I guess it's just that" He begins. "I wish you could rely or trust in me more, you know? It's just kinda… sad" His voice fades out, but I caught even the last word that I guess he didn't want me to hear. My heart slightly thumps guiltily in my chest, because I know exactly what he's referring to. I didn't have any self-awareness, but apparently I still had some confusion and fatigue engraved in my facial expression from the event that I am still keeping from Stan- Craig's kiss.

Something in me brightens up, urges, to tell Stan what had happened, but then my operating brain forces the heat back in. My brain tells me to think about the consequences. What would happen if I told Stan about the kiss? Would he even care- I look up automatically with curiosity and meet Stan's gaze.

"I don't think pickled onion and salami inside a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is the best combination Kyle." His lips move, but it's not until a few seconds later that I sink in his words. I look down and find that my hands had subconsciously been making a gruesome looking sandwich. Ew. When I pick it up the liquid from the pickle mixes in with the jelly and falls onto the plate, creating a chunky red splatter. I even admire how disgusting it looks.

"This one can be for Kenny"

While making lunch, eating lunch, putting lunch away, the earlier conversation I had with Stan doesn't leave my mind. The more I try to lock it up in a small room in my brain, the more it bangs aggressively on the door to get out. So I thought about it. I began to consider telling Stan of what had happened. I knew deep down that he would be okay about it; unlike me, he has tolerance and a mature personality that would probably force him into accepting anything. Should I use that personality? I mean he looks pretty stressed out _not_ knowing about what had happened. What could become worse if I told him?

So the hours of consideration began to build up into the large possibility of telling Stan about the kiss. The question was: how would I tell him? 'Stan hey. You seem to wanna know about what was going on so this is it. I was kissed by Craig, who I thought hated me but doesn't actually hate me and I'm really confused, oh, and by the way you don't have to worry about the kisser being a guy because I'm gay and the only reason why I'm upset about it is because I'm shocked and practically trying to get over my pity crush over you.' Yeah. Ain't gonna happen. He probably wouldn't even understand it, whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.

"Kenny, what should I do?" I kick my out-stretched legs that bounce on the blonde's lap. He rolls his eyes as if saying 'give me a break'.

"Kyle, I'm not going through this again" I sit up on the couch and lean in towards him, pressing him for an answer. "I'm still with the idea of you pinning him down to the ground and stripping your clothes off, but hey, apparently that's not the way you want it is it?" He pauses, and looks down at me in an overacting serious expression. "Wait a minute, this isn't about Craig again is it?" I punch him in the shoulder and he leans back into he couch, cackling.

"Fuck you Kenny"

"My pleasure, Kyle"

Why did conversations with Kenny never end up going anywhere? I sigh, and lie back onto the couch, my legs still spread across Kenny's lap. My eyes wonder across the boring ceiling while I try to gather the spec of courage it would take to tell Stan what I needed to say.

Stan was right.

Wasn't _I_ the one who wanted the friendship with Stan so badly? There's a part in me that feels insecure from guilt; it doesn't stop me from trusting him, but it just makes me hesitant towards the act of relying on him. God, it feels as though I'm the one who's trying to push him away and slowing down the development of our relationship.

I believe in the type of relationship, whether it's friendship or love, that no matter what, you shouldn't lie to one-another. As much as I hypocritically want to say that you shouldn't keep _anything_ from the one-another, that can hardly be done. The only reason why I would say that would be to make the other person spill. Completely selfish, I know.

A sudden memory flashes in my head and my heart stops for a second. _Did that time when I told Stan that I was okay even though I wasn't make me a liar? Does that mean that I _lied_ to Stan? _

I jolt my upper body up; my legs slide off Kenny's lap as I sit up straight alarmingly on the couch. An urge, a sickening urge to tell Stan what had happened rises within me. I don't know if it's from wanting to justify myself or to make up to Stan for my weird behaviour. Bitterly, I admit that it's mostly to justify myself, but I sincerely _do_ want to make up to Stan. Ignoring Kenny's curious gaze, I jump off the couch with unnecessary motivation, landing firmly on the white carpet.

Okay.

Time to tell Stan.

My flaming motivation slowly dies down with every step I take towards Stan's room. By the time I arrived at his door, nerves had taken up most of my mind. I just stand there, listening to the faint sound of the guitar leaking out of the door. I decided to wait for him to finish his song; I didn't want to interfere him and his music, but most of all, the music was relaxing and seemed to ease my nerves. Basically, I just wanted to listen for a while more.

The soft plucking of minor-chord strings continued for a few minutes, but to me it only felt like a second. I sigh as I hear the song coming to a close, and I place my knuckle on the door and knock after the sound completely dies out.

"Stan?" Even to me my voice was hardly audible, and I'm sure to god that Stan wouldn't have heard it. So, I open my mouth to call for him again but I'm silenced when the sound of quick footsteps comes towards the door and swings it open. When I notice it, I'm face-to-face with a tensed Stan.

"Kyle, hey" His voice seems to relax with relief, towards what, I do not know. But now was not the time to get my self carried away with my curiosity. I casually greet him and go straight into what I came here for.

"Stan, can I talk to you for a minute?" I ask him doubtfully. Half of me hopes for him to say no, but this was Stan.

"Yeah, sure." He says with a lift of his shoulder. _Yeah, sure… _Of course he would have said that. Kind, polite Stan would never let me down.

"O-kay…" My mouth feels somewhat sticky. I nod deeply with a shrug. Half of my brain thinks '_what now?' _then I notice Stan looking down at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something.

Under the pressure of his gaze, I look around the hallway anxiously. "Hey, do you mind if we talk somewhere more, um, private?" It's not like I'm suspecting someone to eaves drop on us It's just that I just don't feel comfortable talking in such an open area.

"Sure, where do you want to go?" Stan asks, sounding slightly curious after hearing the word 'private'. I get the urge to snort at my own choice of words. _Private_- how did that not sound like 'hey, let's go make out in the closet'? Ignoring my brain's bitter comment, I immediately think up of a place.

"Can we talk outside?"

Okay, so, outside isn't really a closed-up area; it's even more open than the frigging hall way, but the refreshing breeze definitely makes up for it. For a second I forget what I came out here for, but then I hear Stan's cough, which brings me back to reality.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" His voice sounds eager to know what I wanted to say. The thought made me just a tiny bit more nervous. I nod and kick the dirt under my shoes lightly, before gathering up enough courage to talk.

"Remember how you asked what was wrong with me?" I begin. "And remember how I said that nothing was wrong, and then you told me not to lie?" Looking slightly puzzled, he nods, and I release a small breath before continuing. "Well, I lied. Something did happen that kinda- fucked me up…" Okay... that's my introduction. Stan looks like he's slowly beginning to understand where I was heading, and his expression slowly deepens into a more serious colour.

There was only one more thing to say now.

I gulp, just to prepare myself. "The reason why I was so weird was…" The pounding in my chest increases its speed and volume. My mind spins dizzily, and I drop my eyes to the ground to avoid Stan's concerned gaze.

"...Craig kissed me"

The second I say the words, a cool breeze fills up my chest, and it magically refreshes my mind. The invisible weight on my back had suddenly turned into dandelion seeds and flew away with the wind. I almost laugh at how easy it was to say that simple sentence, how much lighter I felt after saying it, and how stupid it was for me to think that it would be so hard. From the moment of joy, I look up from the ground excitedly to face Stan. But the moment I meet his eyes, every cheerful feeling that was filling me seems to drain away and disappear. It makes me freeze.

Shock is the first thing I notice in his expression. His eyes wide, staring straight into mine, yet they were focused on something that wasn't there. Then the changing colour in his eyes; the sapphire blue darkens as his eyebrows slowly begin to furrow, casting a shadow over his eyes. I can see him tense his jaw, grinding his teeth behind his lips. _Anger_. Pure anger was glittering in him. Nothing compared to what he showed yesterday after I said that I would never tell him what happened. And now, I wish that I didn't. He's frozen on the spot with only his eyes boiling with hidden rage. I haven't seen him this mad in a very long time, if ever. It makes his next moves completely unpredictable; it scares me.

"Stan?"

Anxiety makes my words shake out of my mouth. It feels as though I'm talking to an unidentified bomb, trying not to make it explode. I try and make a smile that would convince him that the kiss wasn't a big deal. The muscles in my cheeks slightly lift up into a forced smile, but my eyes don't seem to be able to light up. But by the time I finished pronouncing his name he had kicked his heels and began to run towards the house. I was too late.

"Stan!" I call out at his back but he doesn't stop to respond. A sudden vision pops up in my head: a prediction of what he was going to do, and I feel the heat in my cheeks wash away.

_Shit_.

Without any second thoughts I dash towards the house, following Stan's back as fast as I could.

I didn't expect Stan to be a homophobic, so much to the extent that he would bash up the guy who force-kissed his friend. The idea made my stomach twitch. _What would Stan do if he knew that I was gay, or even worse, gay for him? _A small shiver runs down my spine but I try to ignore it. Now wasn't time to have those kinds of thoughts.

When I burst the front door open I'm taken aback by the peaceful and calm atmosphere. The unexpected silence confuses me; I don't know exactly what I was expecting, but it wasn't peace and quiet. Maybe I was expecting aggressive swearing and irrational accusations, just- not this.

I stand with my shoulders rising and falling rhythmically with my breaths. Half of me is relieved that I couldn't hear any loud noises, the other half of me is anxious and intimidated by the utter silence. My confused mind debates on what to do and I use that time to catch my breath. Then I hear loud footsteps break the silence and I jolt in my spot. Stan appears out from the lounge room, looking around with firing eyes, his chest moving with his aggressive breaths.

"Stan, what are you doing?" I squeeze out the question from my mouth as calmly as I can, trying to hide my worry. He murmurs an answer as he walks past but I can't catch it. He doesn't even look at me as he passes by. Then something seems to tick inside him, but his lightened expression instantly falls into a scowl and he begins to stomp away down the hall. I know where he's heading. My stomach drops as I hear a door open fiercely and I dash towards my room: Craig and my room.

The door was wide open so I use the sides to stop myself from barging through the entrance, and the minute I look inside a loud _wack!_ echoes in my ears. My heart jumps at the loud noise, and it cools my head down for a second until my eyes spot the two main figures in the room. They were two people.

One was Stan; he was standing with his left fist securing the neck of the other person's shirt. The other person's face was hidden by the black hair spread across his face lifelessly, as if something had just hit him across the cheek. The other person was Craig. I stand there dumbstruck, not being able to believe what I was seeing_. Did Stan just-_

Then another _smack! _bounces off the walls and brings my blank mind back into reality. Craig's shirt untangles out of Stan's grip as he falls backwards and lands onto the bed.

_Stan just- punched Craig in the face... _

"Stan!" I screech out his name automatically from shock. But he doesn't listen; he seems too preoccupied with his opponent in front of him. Not being able to move or let out any more words, I just watch with wide eyes, unable to blink. Stan slowly lifts up the limp body by the neck of the shirt again, making Craig's hair slide off his face. Craig grabs on to the two wrists of the hands that were tightening his neck and narrows his eyes as Stan brings their faces closer, so close that their noses were nearly touching. Then Stan's lips move slightly, just enough for me to catch his next words that he hisses darkly into Craig's face.

"I told you not to touch him"

The words seem to trigger something inside Craig. His navy eyes narrow into a glare, a cold sharp glare, and his grip around Stan's wrists tighten. Before I knew it, Stan was forced down onto his back where Craig was laying a moment ago. It was so fast I could hardly catch the movement. I bluntly saw Craig's grip around Stan's wrists loosen, then his hands travelled around to Stan's ears and before I knew it, Stan was flipped onto the bed. A low moan emits from Stan's throat, but he immediately recovers and kicks Craig in the stomach, sending him flying to the ground. He doesn't let Craig catch a breath from pain before he lunges for him.

At that instant, my legs begin to gain consciousness and I jump towards the enraged raven who was straddling the other on the ground. My thin arms tangle around Stan's shoulders, desperate to hold him in. With all my might I manage to drag him off of Craig and onto his feet.

"Kenny!" I call for help; I couldn't stop these two six-footers from fighting alone.

"Tweek!"

The time I have to wait for the two to help me are agonising. Stan kicks and twists in my arms, trying to attack Craig who was also possessed by the combative spirit.

Finally, after a few long seconds the two blonds burst in with shocked expressions. The moment Tweek sees the drama he shrieks, but immediately jumps in to hold Craig down. Kenny runs back out of the room, but I soon hear his footsteps hurry back in and I sigh with relief under the struggling Stan, until-

"Ah! What the hell!" The second Stan stops struggling in my arms is the second cold liquid is splashed all over us. We both stand there, shocked, drenched from head to toe. It takes me a second to readjust my thoughts before glaring at Kenny, who was standing with a bright smile, an empty jug in his hands.

"Kenny! The fuck?" My head instantly burns with rage but Stan just stands there, still shocked. Kenny shrugs with an apologetic smile, but soon relaxes his shoulders and bursts into laughter. It infuriates me. The rhythmic drops of water bouncing off my hair onto the ground sounds like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off in my head.

Through the corner of my eye I see Craig and Tweek staring at us unbelievingly. Tweek looks like his eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. The water seemed to have failed to drench them, but a small splash had attacked Craig shirt. The wet fabric was now sticking eagerly to his toned abdomen.

"Kenny, was that really necessary?" Stan says breathlessly, after finally regaining his voice. It drags my mind back to reality from- wherever it just was.

I had to wait for ten minutes before I got my turn in the shower. I let Stan go before me because he still seemed pretty shocked from the water that was splashed to cool his rare rage. But the waited shower is worth the wait. Heaven. I don't even have my usual flashbacks of the day; it's just me with a blank mind, relaxing steam and warm water. It takes me a few forceful mental nudges to turn the taps off.

I'm the type of person who gets fully dressed before getting out of the shower, and when I open the door, I fully thank it. My heart slightly jumps when I open the door to find my self face-to-face with a grumpy looking Craig. He sits on the bathroom chair with his chin resting in his palm, new clothes folded in his lap.

"About time" He welcomes me, coolly. I try to ignore him but I can't stop myself from saying 'shut up' lamely as I pass him. But as I rest my hand on the bathroom doorknob a sudden question rushes past my mind. I freeze for a second then slowly turn back.

"Craig?"

"What?"

He instantly replies, not hiding his irritation of being stopped undressing. His shirt had just come off his head, stopped around his forearms in the midst of taking it off. I shrug at his tone but then spot his bare torso; the skin around his abdomen had turned pink from the wet shirt. Slight guilt flows through my body, which is still slightly steaming from the long shower. I decide to make my question as fast as possible.

"Remember how Stan told you- after he punched you, 'I told you not to touch him'?" He furrows his eyebrows so I continue quickly. "Was he talking about me?"

The air around us stiffens for a second, and I can only wait patiently for a reply.

"Yes" He says finally then takes his arms out of the shirt. But that answer leads to one more question.

"…When did he tell you that?"

"I think it was around the fourth day, when I was sharing a room with Stan" This time he immediately answers. I try to recall the memories of that day but all I can remember is losing Uno over and over again. I'm destructed from my thoughts when I hear the monotonous voice again.

"Huh?"

Craig looks at me annoyingly through narrowed eyes.

"Can I take my shower now?"

After his question we stare at each other for a few seconds. Then I hear something click in my head and I notice his half-naked body. I run out the room, slamming the door behind me.

_Damn it! I hate his sarcastic tone! _My face heats up with rage as I stomp away from the bathroom.

_...I hope he didn't notice my blush-_

I freeze halfway through the thought, shake my head, and quickly continue.

_Even though it's just a blush from anger…_

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><p><strong>A.N- Eep! Don't tell me! No, actually please, please, do tell me. I'd love feedback (even advice. even a frowny face) for my horrible writing. I don't know what it is but I'll try and make it better. <strong>

**Oh, and thanks to a certain someone who said that I could talk for as long as I wanted, I came up with one or two more things I want to write so maybe more chapters? longer chapters? Anyway. **

**Thanks for reading! **


	11. Chapter 11

**A.N- Yay! Thank you lovelies for all your wonderful reviews!**

**This is the shortest chapter so far, by far, I know. But imagine walking up a hill with your iPod and then the battery runs out when you're at the top. You sit down and charge the battery, then take off again, down hill. That's what this is like. I haven't been drawing and I need to get it back into my lifestyle or I'll explode. Not to mention schoolwork and the Jap exam coming up. That may mean- slow updates…**

**Thank you again for being so patient! I hope you enjoy.**

**And this chapter has a name. I hope you understand what it means.**

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><p><em>Chapter 11: Tea break- two blonds.<em>

The small boy stares back at me. His wild scarlet curls burst out into a giant red firework, falling lifelessly around his cheeks. The boy had cast his white shirt away onto a nearby chair, revealing the white skin of his torso. Shame and disappointment darkens his jade green eyes as he looks back at me; and I think I have the same look towards him. Just looking at him makes me feel sorry for him. I give the small boy another deep glance, where his skin shows from neck down to hip up. The same bitter feeling as before brushes my tongue as I look at him for the second time.

What a scrawny body he has. There is hardly any meat clinging to his bones, making his ribs visible under his pale skin that glows under the bathroom light. Muscle, which you could detect if you looked hard enough, is not the main feature of his body. Long years after the disengagement from sport did not give him any opportunity to build up his body into the manly tone it is meant to be. He doesn't look his age to say the least. There's even a possibility you could mistake him as a girl, if he had larger breasts and a skinnier waist.

I move my eyes from his torso to his arms. It's nothing better, if not worse. The boy lifts his arm up by the elbow and I drag my gaze from his arm onto my own, lifted up by the elbow in the same way as him. With my other hand, I feel the skin of my arm, searching for the faint muscles hiding underneath. Yes it's there, but not a satisfying amount. I tense the muscles and squeeze my hand around the circumference, measuring the hardness. A small smirk escapes my nose as I release the tension in my pathetic mascles.

_What am I doing?_

After making sure that Craig had left the bathroom I sneaked back in, making sure no one saw me. The steam on the mirror from the showers had mostly disappeared, making my reflection completely visible on the mirror. The faint vision of Craig's topless figure was still stuck to the back of my eyelids. I looked at my own reflection on the bathroom mirror, observing my own features.

Maybe I could admit now, that it wasn't just anger that made me blush. Jealousy, embarrassment, frustration, even admiration could have contributed to the heat rising in my cheeks.

It wasn't just Craig. You could detect Stan's, Kenny's, even Tweek's muscles underneath the thin shirts that were provided for us in this house. But what about me? If I wore a shirt it was impossible to see that there were any muscular arms hidden underneath the fabric. At least that's what I thought when I saw myself in the mirror. Then curiosity suddenly rose at the back of my mind.

I tugged at the short sleeves and squeezed my arms inside, then pulled the whole shirt over my head and casted it over to the chair next to me. But when I stared myself in the mirror, shirtless, I regretted it.

It's not like it's the first time I saw myself in the mirror. It's just staring at myself after being so useless during a fight, made myself feel helpless. A small punch in the self-esteem right there.

I give the boy in the mirror one last glance, trying to keep my sigh in, but then…

_Creak… _

The faint sound of the bathroom door opening makes me freeze on my spot. I stare at the small gap made by the opening door widen, slowly making space for the person behind the door to come through.

My heart stops as blond hair pops out from in between the gap. The hair lightly brushes the two cerulean orbs that sneak out from behind the door to inspect the room. Then they spot me. They look at me, up, then down, then I suddenly remember my position: standing shirtless in front of a mirror. Incredible heat rushes to my cheeks as the edges of the blonde's mouth begins to rise into a mocking grin.

"Fuck off Kenny!"

Before I knew it, my hand had automatically thrown a bar of soap at him. But unfortunately, he shuts the door milliseconds before it hits him in the nose, making the soap bounce off the door and land lifelessly onto the tiled floor. His insolent chuckle that disappears behind the door pushes my embarrassment to the limit and triggers my rage.

Not even giving my reflection one last glance, not even remembering to put my shirt back on, I burst out of the bathroom, ready to bash the shit out of the blond with my scrawny little arms.

As I run after the pervert, who runs away chuckling at my hysterical blushing, my eyes are automatically drawn towards his bare arms swinging playfully in the air. For a brief second, I forget all my fury and blankly stare at the boy.

"Hey Ken?"

"What?"

Dropping his playful attitude, he turns back with a confused expression, and I suddenly become aware of my change of tone. Heat travels to my cheeks again, as I become conscious of what I was planning to ask him. I clench my jaw bitterly and glare at Kenny to gain back the anger I had towards him a second ago.

"-It's nothing!"

No way. No way in hell was I going to ask him to train me.

Everyone seemed to be quiet for the rest of the day. There was still an electrifying atmosphere existing between Stan and Craig, I was still pissed off with Kenny for pouring water all over me, and Tweek was too nervous to try and break any of the tension and kept silent. Even Kenny seemed to feel uneasy with the dark atmosphere.

"God! Can you just stop stabbing each other with killer eyes? You're both such fucking pussies!"

During the cold mood of dinner, something finally snaps within Kenny. The sound of clattering cutlery and plates echoing around the silent room might have been too much for the simple-minded clown. He drops his fork aggressively on his dinner plate and scowls at the two black heads. The electrifying atmosphere between the two instantly freezes and the two gape back up at the blond.

"I don't like having dinner when I'm surrounded by fucking douchebags who can't keep their temper because they're fighting over a fucking girl!"

_Wait a minute…_

I was all ready to ignore whatever argument they were going to have, but that comment was obviously something I couldn't disregard. I drop my own knife and fork on the plate to put all my concentration onto my glare on Kenny.

"What the fuck does that mean Kenny!"

"I'm saying that I'm sick of them fighting over you!" He answers without even realising my accusing tone.

"Goddamn it Kenny! I'm not a fucking girl!" I spit out, feeling humiliated. "And those two aren't fighting _over_ me!"

"Yeah? Then what are they doing?" Kenny points at the two still staring blankly at us, lost in words. It takes me a second to answer that question; I mean, those two are just too secretive and confusing for me to understand.

"Well- Craig is just being an over-sensitive asshole and Stan's being a homophobic bastard!"

The icy atmosphere between the two seems to break with my comment. Craig narrows his eyes at me into a glare and Stan widens his eyes with shock, and then opens his mouth defensively.

"I'm not a homophobe!"

"Then why did you punch me after finding out that I kissed Kyle?" Craig sneers at Stan challengingly, as if knowing that he wouldn't be able to answer the question. On the other hand Stan just let's Craig get to him. His face begins to glow a deep red, something rare for Stan, and his jaw hangs open, lost in what to say.

"Y-you know why!" He finally manages out, blushing harder than ever.

"Yeah, yeah" In contrast to Stan's worked up attitude Craig just breathes out a reply in a way that shows that he couldn't care less. But I'm still curious about Stan's blushing.

"What's so embarrassing?"

"Nothing!" Stan immediately reacts to my question and Craig also mutters a 'nothing' beside him. Craig's attitude must have triggered something in Stan, because the next second, Stan pulls Craig's chair from underneath, causing him to smash onto the ground.

"What the fuck Marsh!" The cool expression had completely drained away from Craig, being replaced by a death glare. The other guy just stares down at him, with a smirk that shows his satisfaction towards his own action.

"Serves you right asshole."

And with that, Craig hooks his leg around the back of Stan's knee, forcing him to genuflect on both knees before completely collapsing onto the ground.

"God! Will you guys just cut it out?" Kenny's voice rips out from the pit of his throat, suggesting his true frustration towards the fighting couple. His hand reaches for a glass of water but I swiftly grab onto his wrist.

"Don't you dare"

He glares into my eyes in response to my warning. His hand, an inch away from the cup, shakes in my tight grip that holds his hand in mid air.

"Let me go Kyle, they need another shower"

"No! I'm not gonna let you drench other people just because you enjoy it!"

"Get the fuck off of me Tucker!"

"Stop being such a pussy Marsh"

The dining table has become a complete battlefield. Cups are knocked over and the food is sprayed all over the scrunched-up tablecloth. But I don't care. No one does. We are too hooked up with our opponents to even notice the mess we are creating. But just as the atmosphere begins to burn up a loud bell rings in the air, announcing a cease-fire. It takes me a moment to realise that the bell was actually a voice, and it takes me by surprise when I realise whose voice it was.

"Stop it! Everyone, just stop it!" It wasn't an ear-tearing yell, but it was such a rare sound, that it made the whole table freeze in silence.

We all turn our heads slowly towards the end of the table with widened eyes, and find Tweek stood up with his chest rising and falling as if he had just ran a hundred-metre sprint. It makes me stare at him with disbelief. Did Tweek just- yell at us? Like, not a paranoid screech but yelling at us for fighting with each other? Wow. That's amazing… I'm actually impressed.

"You guys are totally under too much pressure!" Everyone is dumbfounded by the rare firmness in Tweek's attitude; his twitchless voice is proof of his seriousness, and we just stare at him disbelievingly. Tweek stares back at us, slightly pink in the face, but keeping his spine up straight. "You need to calm down."

The words tick a memory in my brain. I know exactly what he is talking about and the mere idea of it makes my cheeks blush

"No way." I firmly object, and Tweek gives me a surprised and confused look.

"Why not?"

"Because…" Giving him a disbelieving stare in an 'are you serious?' tone, I nod at the other three guys, reminding Tweek of their existence. "With five guys? Don't you think that's kinda- gay? Especially since we are all in a fight?"

Now it was my turn to be looked at by Tweek as if _I_ was the complete moron.

"That's why we should do it."

I roll my head at his words. Tweek is not about to back down with his idea and I brace myself for the awkwardness and embarrassment that is about to come.

Letting out one last sigh, I walk towards the two black heads on the ground. Giving them an 'I'm tired of your stupidity' gaze, I lazily stretch my hands out towards them, indicating for them to grab on. They eye my hands blankly for a second then quickly reach out. Making sure our grips are nice and firm, I try and heave them up, but quickly regret it. I completely forgot the recklessness of trying to pull up a six-footer off his feet, let alone two. Their weight nearly pulls my arms out of their sockets, bringing me tumbling down to the ground in between them. The pain in my face grinding into the carpet is agonising, but what is worse is the embarrassment.

Somewhere behind me I hear Kenny roar with laughter, and I also feel Stan and Craig's amused gaze glued to the back of my head. My face burns in embarrassment and I keep my face dug in the carpet in between the two ravens. All I pray for is that they don't see my humiliated facial expression. But I soon feel the temperature of Craig and Stan's knees disappear beside me. Confused, I look up from the carpet and see that the two had stood up on their own without my help.

_Fine so they didn't need my assistance…_ But before the bitter feeling towards my uselessness grows too much, I find two hands outstretched in front of me, an inch away from my nose. I move my gaze from the two hands up until I meet two pairs of eyes. Both blue. One pair is a sparkling sapphire; the other is a darker shade of Deep Ocean blue. They are both blue, but how could they be so different? The first pair is slightly narrowed in a warm smile, and the other stares down at me calm and emotionless, yet there is something deep in there that gives a mysterious softness you can only detect if you looked closely enough. _Wait… are they really that different?_

I bring my gaze back onto the two hands and shrug off my stupid blush. Then I smirk, and without hesitation, I grab energetically onto the two hands, one hand in each. They both pull me up as if I only weighed as much as a feather. It takes me by surprise and I nearly go off balance while I try and steady onto my feat.

"You're too fucking light Broflovski. Grab a cake."

"Yeah? And thanks for helping me up asshole."

"'You okay, Kyle?"

"Yup I'm fine. Thanks Stan"

As soon as I thank the two for bringing me up to my feet, I feel two warm palms push my back.

"C'mon Kyle…!" I hear Tweek's voice behind me and I groan, remembering what we were about to do. He made me do the same with him in middle school and it felt… weird. Imagine doing it with a whole bunch of high school guys: fun.

We are all asked to sit in a circle on the lounge room carpet by Tweek, well, more like ordered to. Knowing from past experience what to do, I'm the first one to sit on the carpet and I quickly close my eyes, praying for it to be over as quickly as possible. I hear some thuds and feel the presence of people sitting down to the either side of me. It feels like everyone has sat down already. The two people beside me sit crossed legged, like me, and as they jitter around in their spot to get comfortable, their knees lightly brush against mine. I can't see who they are, and I don't bother to open my eyes to figure out. The rustling and jittering soon stops, and Tweek begins to explain the method of our activity.

"So, now that we're all in a circle have we closed our eyes?"

"Mm-hmm" Everyone answers sleepily, still ignorant to what we were about to do. I visualise Tweek nod in confirmation before he continues.

"We are going to be doing some meditation"

Yep, I knew it was coming. Two years ago, when I was under a lot of stress, Tweek had made me meditate with him. We sat face-to-face and held hands. Our breaths seemed to be extremely loud while we had our eyes closed with nothing else to focus on. It was embarrassing, two guys sitting there with their eyes closed and holding hands. It only went for a couple of minutes but by the time it finished all the stress seemed to have drained away from me. Not because of the relaxation, but because everything just felt too stupid and ridiculous after that. So I just gave up on feeling stressed, if that makes sense. But I can tell from the mild groaning that no one else seems to have guessed that meditation was coming. I don't blame them. Meditation was something that we did at compulsory yoga classes at school, and it wasn't something that we'd do at home for fun.

"Then, now can you hold the hand of the person sitting to either side of you, and keep your eyes closed."

Everyone does as they're told. I still don't know who's sitting next to me, and I can't exactly tell from their hands. It's not like I've ever held any of them, at least with what I remember. The two hands are both larger and bonier than mine, which is not a huge surprise. While one is warm and holds my hand kindly, the other is somewhat cooler and dry. Maybe it's just my imagination, but it feels like it's hesitating on holding my hand back. I try and hold down a chuckle from the thought. As if listening to my thoughts, Tweek says the next step.

"If the other person's hand is cooler than yours, imagine giving your own temperature to the other person through the linked hand. If your hand is cooler, imagine receiving temperature from the other person."

Smiling, I visualise sending my temperature through my palm into the slightly cooler hand. I unconsciously squeeze it, trying to send in more warmth. The hand tenses in my grip from surprise, but then it relaxes into my temperature. We breathe in, and breathe out as Tweek tells us to. Slow and deep, but also smooth.

By the time we finish our little meditation circle, I had completely warmed up the other person's hand. I feel content and slightly proud of my self. That meditation wasn't as bad as doing it alone with Tweek.

With Tweek's word, we all let go of the two hands we were holding. We are told that we can open our eyes now, but I don't. I feel too relaxed and sleepy to be bothered getting up from the comfortable carpet.

I don't know how long I sit there for, but I can feel the people's presence around me drift away and I sense that everyone had left the circle. The longer I sit there for, the more it becomes harder to get up. As every second passes by on the carpet my body becomes heavier and I become inches away from sleep, until a quiet voice whispers into my face.

"Are you okay, Kyle?"

My eyelids swing open and I come face to face with Tweek. The poor dude yelps in his spot in surprise at my sudden awake.

"Yeah I'm fine." I blink tiredly but alarmingly and look around my surroundings. Everyone had left; it's just Tweek and me here. So I finally didn't get to see who I was sitting next to, huh? A light breath escapes my mouth and I look back at Tweek, who stares right back at me anxiously.

"Tweek?"

He asks back with a worried tone, looking down at me as if I was about to explode. "Yeah?"

I smile. "You're honestly one step away from becoming a hippie" I don't mean it in an offensive way, if that's what it sounded like. Just an honest statement that came from my strange respect towards the blond.

He freezes for a second at my sudden smile, but then loosens the muscles in his body with relaxation. A melting smile crooks up the end of his lips and his eyes narrow with the smile, letting light shine into his green orbs.

"What's life without love and peace… nck, and coffee?"

So the meditation was a source of relaxation. But that didn't mean that I was going to be completely detoxified from frustration or confusion. In reality, here I am on the couch, ready to snuggle up for sleep. I don't know why I still feel hesitation towards going back to the bedroom. All the contradictory feelings that are knotting up my brain make me lazy, and I feel that the only thing I want is to be alone. What are the contradictory feelings? I don't know; even that is something I am not bothered to think about. I don't want to ruin the calm relaxation that I received from the embarrassing meditation.

I eye the couch, examining my bed for the night, and a similar sour feeling rises within me as I spot the blanket sitting on the edge of the couch. It has been folded perfectly again, which would have been fine if I was the one who had folded it. But it wasn't, which reminds me of the bitter reality that someone knew that I was too cowardly to go back to the bedroom to sleep. That someone, was the one who would have folded the blanket and place it neatly on the couch, ready for me to use it when I go sleep.

Ungraciously, I kick the blanket into the air. It dances in the air and opens up, landing gracefully back onto the couch, all ready for snuggling in. I smirk at it, eyeing it bitterly. Then I let out a sigh, realising how pathetic I was behaving. If I didn't want to be thought as a wimp I should just barge in on Craig and go back into my own bed. My body automatically shudders at the thought, rejecting it.

I slowly swim my eyes back to the comfy-looking couch and let out one last sigh before digging my way in between the couch and the blanket, and I curl myself under the thin material.

I wonder how long this is going to last. Am I going to stay on this couch until the next room change? I might not even be here then. Who says that I won't be eliminated?

_Soon_. I promise myself. _Soon, I will get over this frustrating confusion, and everything would make sense. Just like it's meant to be._

I mean, what would the meaning be in being here if I don't?

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><p><strong>A.N- I'm sorry if it's not what you expected. The next chapter is something I've wanted to write for a long time so I'm happy I can finally write it XD<strong>

**Thank you for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A.N- Upppppdaaaateeeee! Finally! Ugh! Anyway, I'm sorry this took so long to update. I won't say any excuses- actually I will. TOO MUCH SCHOOL WORK! Art, English, Japanese and 20****th**** century history are out to get me! **

**But more importantly, thank you guys so much for your reviews! It was a tea break (fun play yay!) chapter dedicated to the blonds (Kenny and Tweek, especially Tweek since he has such a small role in this story). And thank you so much for your patience. I hope this chapter is even the slightest worth the wait! I've been planning to write this chapter since... maybe the start?  
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**Oh yeah. I changed my changing scenes/time symbol again. Now it's 'ooo'. I don't like it...  
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**Anyway. And sorry for such a long author's note. Enjoy!**

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><p>I'll never admit it to anyone, but I wouldn't be able to deny it either. Throughout the sixteen years of my life I have been traumatised by my mortal enemy. Although I have been able to overcome my girly-arms complex, there are still other secret factors that remain influenced by that person.<p>

That person, my mortal enemy- Eric fatass Cartman.

But I will never admit it to him. Never. The effect that he had on me, the fact that he was able to create a fear in me that I would probably hold on for the rest of my life-

I will never admit it to him, or to anyone else. Not ever.

ooo

The faint sound of the creaking floorboards enters my sensitive ears and brings me out of a dreamless sleep. My eyes feel all puffed and fuzzy from waking up and my whole vision is out of focus. I can faintly make out the silhouette of the coffee table and lounge room walls, but the bright morning light seems to blend everything in together. I narrow my eyes, trying to clear my eyesight, but it doesn't work. I soon give up and let my heavy eyelids drop back on my fuzzy eyes.

When I try to relax back into my sleeping position, a sharp pain shoots through my back and my whole body stiffens from a sudden throbbing sensation. But the sharp pain reminds me, more strongly than my stupid blurry vision, that I was sleeping on the lounge room couch. No wonder my whole body aches. Sleeping on the hard leather cushions for three nights in a row wouldn't be the best thing for my back. Nevertheless, once the sharp pain drifts away from my body I relax myself back into the white leather, finding my way back into dreamland. When I close my eyes, a comforting darkness soon embraces me into a peaceful sleep.

But it doesn't last.

The moment I close my eyelids and begin to count sheep, another faint creak tickles my eardrums. And again, it repeats. The sound continues to repeat, slowly and carefully, as if afraid of me noticing it. My curiosity slowly grows as the sound repeats. Could it be mice? In this new house Cartman spent god-knows amount of money on? Well it could be possible; Cartman could have been stingy with the budget on the invisible areas. Stupid fatass.

But as I wonder more about the sound, my curiosity slowly creates a ticking bomb of frustration inside me. What is that fucking creaking sound? The blood in my heart feels like it's boiling from raging curiosity and irritation, but I stubbornly keep my eyelids shut. I'm not going to let some stupid mice interfere with my sleep; I'm not that sensitive.

The creaking floorboards continue to cry out quietly. _Creak. Creak. Creak_. The pace of the sound seems to be slowing down, becoming more careful as it-

Wait a minute.

Is the sound… becoming louder?

The idea makes my boiling heart freeze in an instant, but then begins beating again faster, shallower than before. It's not mice, it's not my imagination: the sound is getting louder. I concentrate all my senses to my hearing, carefully observing the weight sinking into the wooden floorboards. –Footsteps. The thin skin covering my eyes slowly twitches open, just enough so that I can scan through my red eyelashes.

Someone is in the lounge room, behind me, hidden from the back of the leather couch. Someone is walking towards me, cautious not to be noticed. Who is it? Stan? Tweek? Kenny? Craig? But why would they be so cautious, careful not to wake me up? But I am awake. And I have noticed the person. My pulse begins to race and the blood rushes through my veins under my cool skin. But I false my breath to stay calm and I stay stiffened in my spot, staring wide eyed- at nothing. If the person hasn't noticed that I'm awake, there is no need to inform the person that I am. –Honestly, I'm just frozen from anxiety.

The creaking stops, the footsteps have paused right behind the couch. I can feel the heat of two eyes staring at my defenceless back. It's difficult not to twitch from the uncomfortable feeling, like a goldfish in a fishbowl with nowhere to hide from the hunter's gaze of a cautious cat.

The creaking begins again. More slowly than before, more cautiously, the person moves around the couch. I shut my eyes tight when I see a shadow walk around the side of the couch. Every inch of my body braces itself for whatever may be coming. I anxiously wait, hope for the person to just turn around and go back to wherever they came from.

_Creak_-

Silence. It comes suddenly. With that one last loud creak the peaceful quiet fills the room once again. Did the person disappear? My brain denies the absurd idea but my mind automatically clings to the impossible hope. But still I feel nothing move around me, everything stays silent.

Slowly and carefully, I lift my eyelids up for the second time. An idea suddenly pops up at the back of my head as light slowly enters my eyes. Maybe it _was_ all my imagination. Maybe there was no one there to begin with. Maybe the creaking was just a- mole digging under the floorboards or something.

Light enters my eyes, the early morning light that shines freshly through the magnificent windows. But before the light fully transmits to my brain, before my eyesight could fully adjust to the surroundings, darkness- pitch black covers my vision. It's as if a sudden blackout had soaked up all the light in the room. But a second before my vision fully drowns into darkness, my eyes capture something that causes my heart to stop. A person: a face, hidden by a dark balaclava. I don't know if my whole body stiffens or shudders at the creepy sight, but I can definitely feel all the temperature flow out of me. Through the holes of the mask carved out for the eyes to see, stares out two blue orbs. Cerulean blue, like the deep summer sky.

For a second, as darkness creeps over my eyes, I forget to think and to analyse my situation. By the time my mind does come back to conscious my eyes are fully wrapped behind a piece of dark fabric, blocking out all light. Whoever the person was, had blinded me. My body temperature suddenly comes back, rushing through me with my blood racing through my veins, rushing, twirling, forming panic. _Panic_.

"What-!"

But before the words fully roll off my tongue something forces its way into my open mouth, causing my yell to die down somewhere deep in my throat. The fabric soaks in my saliva drying my tongue out, but my mouth seems to continue watering.

I'm blinded. And I'm silenced.

Anxiety, worry, confusion, fear, panic, all burst inside me. My heart pounds so loudly and aggressively under my ribs that it hurts. Who are you? What are you doing? What is going on? Why are you doing this? The questions twirl inside me, desperate to get out. My arms automatically try to spring out, to push the person away, but the person forces me down, using his hands as a rope to tie me down.

The person swiftly swings me up, resting me over what feels like to be his shoulder. I kick and twist and turn but he keeps me locked in his grasp. He wraps his arm around my waist, securing me, not letting me escape. He carries me and walks on the creaking floor. I feel him turn and I know where we are. In the hallway that leads to the bedrooms where everyone is sleeping. _Hope_.

"Ngh-!"

I try and shout through the fabric forced in my mouth, but the sound that comes out is barely audible even to myself. The person continues to walk, ignoring my struggles. He takes a step down and I let out my last attempt of a scream.

Then the sound of a door slowly closing with a squeak echoes in my hollow ears. I hear the locks slowly and carefully entwining themselves together. My heart begins to sink deep down into the pits of my stomach as the feeling of complete vulnerability and loneliness drains all the energy out of me.

I'm locked outside. Blinded. Silenced. Hopeless. Alone.

Although my eyes are covered with pitch black, I can still visualise the locked door of the circular house slowly distancing away.

ooo

The sound of breaking twigs and rustling leaves enters my ears then echoes around in my hollow skull. My stomach has gone numb from the pain coming from the person's bony shoulder grinding into my skin. My arms and legs dangle lifelessly in the air, tired from the long struggle I held in the person's grip. I have stopped resisting, stopped moaning and tried to stop thinking. But I can't stop my thoughts. My brain automatically tries to analyse the situation I'm in and who the person carrying me might be.

He has been carrying me for quite some time, proving his stamina. But he is fairly skinny, not as much as me (surprise, surprise), but he is tall, taller than Kenny, yet not as tall as Craig or Stan. A few faces cross my mind as I think of his height, but none of them fit the one description: the light cerulean coloured eyes. The transparent blue that had the power to suck in anyone's gaze were identical to Kenny's, although I know it couldn't be him. Damn it- I have no idea of who this kidnapper might be.

An extra hard bruise in the ribs brings me out of my thoughts and I leak out a moan of pain. I can't help but bounce and hit against the person's shoulder as he takes each step, some more aggressive than the other. It's agonising, and I bet my whole torso would be covered with purple bruises by the time I'm set free. I worry about my body locked in the person's arm wrapped around my stomach. It must fucking easy for the guy, my hollow body and twiggy figure must be effortless to carry around on the shoulder like a bag of potatoes.

But then suddenly, the tight bound around me loosens. My mind doesn't process the situation as my body slowly slides off the bony surface and I go crashing down onto the ground. The fall shoots an electric shock through my back and all the air in my lungs disappears as I choke on my own pain. An empty cough escapes my throat from the sudden smash on the back and I become desperate for air, but nothing seems to enter my lungs. I continue coughing until my body is finally able to suck in some air. My joints seem to crack as I twist and turn on the hard ground.

"It should be around here somewhere-" Is what I hear through my exhausted coughs, or at least what I think I hear. It's hard to hear someone while his face is covered with a mask. My eyes begin to water from pain under the black blindfold; at least it hides my tears. I can hear rustling and slight thumping on the ground. The sound of overly aggressive footsteps as if searching for something underground.

The stamping stops after a long minute or so, and the lightened footsteps begin to come towards me. My heart gives out a loud thump and I try and kick the ground with my free feet, desperate to stay away from the kidnapper. I can hear the footsteps getting louder and louder until they come to a sudden halt. A short swift of relief brushes past my mind as I continue to back away. Even if he had stopped it doesn't matter. I just want to back away as far as I can from him, but I can't. I kick and struggle aggressively but I can't retreat any further. Something is securing my back, not letting me move. It takes me a few seconds of further struggling until my brain comprehends that a firm hand is securing me in my spot. The temperature from the hand sinks into my skin. My whole body shudders from the contact. It feels as though all my body temperature is being sucked into the hand around my back. I'm frozen.

I can feel the person's presence right in front of me, so close that I can feel the warmth of his skin leaking out onto my face. His face is only inches away from mine and I can feel it. He has taken his balaclava off; I can hear his calm but clear breaths not being blocked by any fabric. If only I could take this stupid blindfold off I would be able to see who this fucking asshole is.

The sound of his breaths slowly becomes louder: he is closing his face in on me. The thought creates a vile sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. _Don't come any closer! _I try to shout, but the loud words are sucked into the fabric stuffed inside my mouth. He is so close. I can feel his breath stroking my skin now, but he keeps closing in. Now I can feel the warmth of his lips: they open slightly, and gently brush the tip of my earlobe as they move.

"Don't worry kid. I'm not gonna hurt you."

His soft voice shoots an icy chill down my spine and sends an electric shock through my veins and into my heart. But it's not because of his warm breath that gently brushes my sensitive ear, or because of his cool seductive voice. His voice triggers something inside me. I can recognise it. I can now see his face clearly, even though I'm still blinded.

"Kevin?"

I shakily call out his name, questioningly and doubtfully. Because, after all, why would _he_ kidnap me? I can sense his body tense beside me, clearly taken aback from my sudden call. My pulse quickens with excitement, I can hear it thump in my ear.

"Kevin McCormick?"

The tension in him is suddenly released. I hear him fall back onto the ground and release a deep sigh of frustration. We sit there silent for a few heavy awkward seconds.

"How did you find out?"

He finally says, the usual dry edginess reappearing in his voice. But I can feel the air around us suddenly change. The damp and heavy atmosphere has burned up into a more tingling feel. But this feels much better. The weight in my heart suddenly lifts a pound and I can breathe again.

"I can recognise your voice moron"

A short bark of laughter is suddenly released into the air, making my stomach jump in surprise. What the hell was that? Why was that funny? I pout in irritation towards the irrational asshole, trying not to show my confusion.

"Yeah you're right Broflovski! I guess I didn't think that you'd recognise my voice-" He finally says once his laughter begins to die down.

"I guess you don't need this then" Under his friendly voice, I imagine a faint tone of viciousness hiding there. It makes me forget to make a sarcastic comment before piercing light shoots into my eyes, making me dig my face into my palms, desperate to escape from the agonising light. My eyesight is bright red even with my eyelids sewed together tightly. In front of me I can hear Kevin chuckle amusingly at my pain. Fucking schadenfreude.

Carefully and cautiously, I open my eyes, just enough to check if my eyes are adapting to the light. My eyelashes cast over my eyes, working as a red curtain to level down the brightness of the light. I can see for my own eyes now that there is a blurry figure crouching down in front of me. If it looks like I'm glaring, it's partly because of the blinding light, but mostly because of my frustration towards the carefree asshole. Once the blinding pain begins to fade away I take my hands off my face and bat my eyes for a final adaptation. Finally. My eyesight is back.

The first thing that I see, framed magnificently with my rage and anger, is a smirking Kevin McCormick. The small bandaids on his face twitch with his smile. His white teeth, which I don't know how him or his brother keeps considering their poor lifestyle, shines menacingly, causing the acid in my stomach to boil from irritation. He leans his elbow into his ragged jeans and rests his cheek on his palm, expressing his mental ease and calmness. The confidence showing in his attitude makes me feel quite uncomfortable.

"Don't feel so scared Broflovski. It's not like I'm gonna cook you up in a stew and eat ya"

His mocking tone brings me back to reality. I gain back my senses and notice that my throat feels blocked up and that the joints in my body are all stiff. It seems like I have unconsciously tensed up my body. But from what? Controlled by confusion, my eyes wonder up until they meet two blue orbs. Cerulean blue, like his brother. But the magnificent eyes lacked something in them. Is it friendliness? Or fondness? I don't know. But it subtly contrasts from the smile formed by his lips.

"Don't be stupid Kevin. I'm not scared." Is what I manage out through my shaky smile, forced out to prove my words positive. But by the way Kevin's smirk widens, I can tell that I'm not so convincing.

"That's good then" The relieved tone in his voice is somewhat challenging- or is it just my imagination? He suddenly stands up straight and the muscles in my body automatically relax as his face draws away from mine. But before I get too comfortable in my spot, I'm grabbed by the arm and dragged onto my feet. The world around me turns dizzily from the sudden motion.

"What the-"

To keep my balance on my feet my hands stretch out for something to hold onto, which was Kevin's red t-shirt. As soon as I realise what I'm doing, I let go, swinging my hands into the air dramatically. I am not going to accept any help from this douchebag.

"Don't touch me." I tell him, coldly. But he brushes my words off with a smirk and grabs my arm aggressively. I flinch in pain from his firm grip, but he ignores my reaction and begins pulling me by the arm. "Hey, stop! I said don't touch me- ow, stop pulling me!"

He continues to ignore me, even as I protest against his rough behaviour. My feet wobble around without any balance. I'm being pulled around like a kite caught up in a strong wind.

Struggling under his uncaring pull, I fail to notice him drop his pace until he comes to a complete halt. I nearly stumble over but his tight grip keeps me in place.

"What the fuck's your problem? Don't just suddenly stop-" I give up midway through accusing him. He doesn't even seem to remember my existence. He had suddenly begun to stamp firmly on the ground as if testing, searching for a sound. Stump, stump, stump, stump-

"There you are"

He says as his foot suddenly hits a hollow sound. The tight grip around my arm releases as he digs under the leaves and grass with his hands. I am free, a perfect chance to escape- but my feet stay locked where they are. Half my mind doesn't even think of the option to run away. I just stand there, staring at Kevin McCormick with honest curiosity towards what he is looking for.

"Ah-ha!" My shoulders jump at his sudden out burst. He crouches down with his fingers dug under the damp soil, and with a heavy lift of his arm, the ground swings up.

It takes me a second to understand what had happened. I doubt my eyes and I accuse my mind for making things up. But it's not my imagination. Kevin had just then, pulled a chunk of ground out of the earth. Wait, that's not right. What he had just pulled up was a wooden door disguised as part of the ground. Either way, now in the ground, is a square hole, dark enough to make it hard to estimate how deep it might be.

"What the hell is that?" I manage out after gulping a large chunk down my throat. The square hole is impressive, but the deep dark gloominess of it just gives me the creeps.

"That my friend- is the fat kid's secret game"

"Cartman's? Wait, game?" He nods and makes a bored 'mm-hmm' sound.

"It's your prison." His words don't sink into me; my brain doesn't process the meaning. A strong impact suddenly shoots through my back. I don't get the chance to understand what is happening and I lose all my balance. The next second, I tumble dramatically into the hole; a strong pain electrocutes my whole body as I crush into the pits of the darkness. But the pain quickly disappears as I look up in disbelief. Kevin, blocking the bright light enter the dark hole, smiles slightly remorsefully.

"Sorry dude. It's not like I have anything against ya. It's just for some cash, you know?"

His words brush through me like a cold breeze. If I had control over my arms I would be hugging myself for warmth. But I just stand there, frozen from confusion and shock. I continue to stare at his smile blankly, even as a shadow begins to cast over my face and block out the last remaining light shining into the hole.

With a heavy grim _clank,_ I'm left alone in the complete darkness. The sound of the earth lid being placed back onto the ground seems to echo all around me. Black, everything is complete black. I don't even know if I have my eyes open or closed: there is no difference to the shadow that dominates my eyesight.

Reality suddenly weighs on me. The air around me crushes me down with tremendous anxiety. My blood rushes through my veins, circulating through my whole body, causing my head to spin. My lungs feel like they are under immense pressure, working so hard to get all the possible air in, yet nothing seems to enter my pipes. I keep my eyes where the light was shining through a few seconds ago. I hope and plead over and over again in my head for the door to open up, but it doesn't bulge.

I'm truly left all alone, here, in a small dark handmade cellar.

_Small, dark, alone-_

Something inside my head snaps.

ooo

"_Come on you stupid Jew! I've come all the way here to keep your sorry ass compony, now we're playing what I say!" The fat around his cheeks wobbled as he opened his mouth to shout. I glared at him, angry at his comment, and at his existence. It's not like I asked him to play with me, he just came when both Stan and Kenny said that they had plans and said that they couldn't play with me that day. _

"_That's so stupid Cartman. It's not even a real game." I used that damp tone kids used to their parents when they did something completely lame and stupid. Cartman's intelligence was equivalent to my mom's knowledge in pop culture. _

"_Ay! 'Locking up dudes in the closet' is recognised world wide as the official game to check if people have real balls! But you already know that don't you Kyle? You're just saying that because you know you don't have the balls to be locked in the closet for a few minutes!" _

_He knew exactly which fuses to light in order to infuriate me. _

"_In your dreams fatass!" I shoved his overly heavy body to the side and took a step into the closet. Rage had me forget about all the possible consequences of walking in there. My small body fitted perfectly in the closet. I could've even sat there if I wanted to. I crossed my arms defensively and turned around to face Cartman. _

"_There! How's that tubby" _

_He grunted in approval, which then turned into an dark smirk. His mischievous smile shot a chill down my spine and I immediately regretted stepping into the closet. I opened my mouth to protest, but before any words could come out, I was shut out from the outside world and locked in the darkness. _

_The click of the lock brought me into sudden panic. I began hitting the closet door with my fists. "Let me out! Let me out!" I said. But Cartman didn't seem to move on the other side of the door. I could visualise the edges of his mouth rise up while listening to me scream. _

"_What Kyle? Are you chickening out already?" _

_His calming yet icy voice instantly cooled my head down. My fists paused on the door and my whole body tensed up: a reaction to his words._

"_I guess that proves that you have no balls Kyle. You are now officially a girl!" _

"_Shut up Cartman! I'm not a fucking girl!"_

_Curse my short temper. _

"_I could stay in here for hours if I wanted to! And I'll prove it!"_

_As if waiting to hear those words, a dirty laugh spat out behind the door. The vulgar sound made me grind my teeth together and I wrapped my arms around myself to hold in any more outbursts. _

"_Then let's see you try"_

_And the game started. Or maybe the game had started the moment he suggested to play it. I don't know, but that's not important. I was completely confident at that stage. I stood up tall (my short height didn't reach the top of the closet back then), and glared at the door menacingly, even though I knew that he couldn't see me. _

_I don't know exactly how long I was standing in the closet for, maybe ten or fifteen minutes. But a few minutes in the closet felt like a couple of agonising hours. With every minute passing by the walls seemed to close in on me, slowly and heavily. Once I judged that it was at least a good fifteen minutes since I entered the closet, I called out to the other side of the door, trying to hide the shake in my voice. _

"_Fatass I've been in here for at least twenty minutes now, it's your turn" _

_But he didn't answer, so I continued. My voice automatically gained up a pitch. _

"_Are you listening to me you fat piece of crap? Let me out! It's been long enough" _

_And still no answer. A sense of discomfort was beginning to grow inside me. Why wasn't he answering? Sure he would have made a few retarded comments by then on why I wanted to get out. But there came no voice, not even the sound of his heavy breath. Complete silence._

"_Cartman this isn't funny! Let me out!" I banged my fist on the door again creating a loud but hollow sound. But still no answer. Anxiety rushed to my fists and rocked the door. And again. "Cartman let me out!" And again. "Let me the fuck out!" And again. _

_My fists were punching the door over and over again. I could feel the skin on my hands breaking and swelling, but I didn't care. I tried to squeeze my fingers through the gap of the closet, but the gap was too thin, it didn't even let any light in. I gave up and began hitting the door again. My palms were swelling and my nails were broken, but I didn't care. The pain was nothing compared to the fear of being left alone in the darkness, abandoned and forgotten. Cartman had abandoned me. _

"_Let me out! Let me out! Let me out! Let me out! Let me out! Let me out! Let me out! Let me out! Let me out! Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!" _

_My screams and knocking echoed pathetically in the small closet. My mind was completely overrun by desperateness and anxiety. Someone please let me out. That is all what I was pleading for. I could feel the strength in my voice beginning to disappear and the power in my fists beginning to fade. But I continued to scream through my rusty throat and punched with my screaming muscles._

ooo_  
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"Let me out!"

My high voice screeches out and tears my eardrums. But this time it's not the voice of my twelve year-old self that rings through my brain.

Throbbing pain grinds into my fists and the faint feel of warm liquid runs down my arms. The small conscious part of my brain says that it is blood, but where is it from? The aching scream continues to echo in the darkness, the painful sound would be able to drive anyone insane. But who's screaming? The simplest answer flashes in my head. My throat is burning and feels all rusty, and there is no one in the darkness except for me.

I am the one screaming. I am the one hitting the wooden door repeatedly. Splinters grinds into my palms with every hit, breaking the skin, digging deep in. Tears of blood run down my arms. My mind is not trapped in a flashback anymore: this is now reality. But strange, I can't feel any pain. I can just feel my body slowly wearing out. Keeping my arms above my head hitting continuously on the door makes me dizzy from poor blood flow. My throat is tearing itself from screaming too much and my lungs are about to burst from the rapid, yet empty breathing.

Fear, despair, desperateness, helplessness, shock, trauma-

Should I admit it? That all these hopeless emotions are caused by that game from four years ago? Should I admit that I was mentally scarred by Eric Cartman? …_No_. That wouldn't do anything. It won't help me out of here. Breaking my fists and tearing my throat is doing nothing to help me out. Should I admit it? I'm not getting out.

Even though my wild mind has forgotten pain, slowly and steadily, the strength in my arms and the sound from my throat is beginning to disappear. Completely torn and worn out, I throw my last fist at the door and drain out my last energy. My fist slowly drags down the wall like a rain droplet running down a window. My legs break down underneath me and I lose all balance and land on my butt. I don't know where the energy comes from, but my shoulders are shaking uncontrollably. I force my screaming arms around my knees and hug them tight. And to avoid the reality of jet-black darkness I dig my head into my knees, covering my ears with my shoulders to block out the eerie silence.

I'm not afraid of the darkness- as long as I'm not alone. I'm not afraid of being alone- as long as there's light. But when I'm locked in a small space with no light or compony, it is hard to keep my mind straight: it drives me crazy from fear and anxiety.

How many hours did I spend in the closet that day? How long did I hug myself in the closet for? I don't know, but I remember it wasn't short. It felt like days, even weeks, sitting there hopeless in the closet. I only know that when I was finally dragged out of there, the light outside had faded into dark night. The time in the closet wasn't short, but it wouldn't have been over six hours. When I was freed from the darkness my face was drenched with tears and sweat. All the energy had drained out of me but strangely my whole body was shaking uncontrollably.

I had to endure five hours of despair and loneliness in the darkness that day. I wonder how long I would have to endure it today. "But whatever happens", I promise myself, "Whatever happens I'm not gonna cry". Not to please that stupid fatass watching over me. I scrunch my face up into a weak and painful smile.

_I just hope that it's not an impossible promise to keep. _

ooo_  
><em>

My knees are tucked into my chest and I wrap my arms around them, just to remind myself the warmth of a person's arms. Curled up into a ball, my body begins to sway back and forth gently. How long have I been in here already? My arms tighten around myself, as if to make sure that I don't shatter into a thousand little pieces.

…_What was that?_

My body suddenly freezes and stops its swaying. All my senses concentrate to my ears, straining to pick up any sign of noise. For a brief second I thought that I heard something above the ground. It was so faint; maybe it was just my imagination. But my ears don't listen to my thoughts and continue to listen desperately for sound. The aggressive beating of my heart gets in the way of my concentration, but then it stops, suddenly.

Footsteps. The faint sound of footsteps grinding into earth above me leaks through the soil and wood of the door. Is it Kevin? Wait, it's not one person- three? Four? I lift my face from my knees and peek at the door, but that second.

_Whack! _

My whole body jumps with the sound of explosion. What the hell was that? My anxious mind makes my heart beat uncontrollably fast. But that doesn't matter. The sudden explosion had unfrozen my body, and when I notice, I'm standing up with my fists hitting against the ceiling door.

"Is someone there!" I lose my mind and ask an obvious question. It's unlikely that whoever's there would answer me anyway. But even so, I can't help but yell with my shaking rusty voice.

"Please let me out!" I plead to the people above the earth. "Somebody!"

I shout at the top of my lungs but my voice is hardly audible under the aggressive sound of my fists banging onto the door. But I don't stop hitting the door. I continue to bash my fist into the wood, again and again and again. I can feel new liquid breaking through the dry blood on my wounds and trickle down my skin. Am I screaming now? Am I crying now? No, I can't be. I promised myself that I wouldn't cry. But I don't know. I can't really tell. I extend my right arm back and send all my energy into the fist for one last blast-

"Let me out!"

My right fist shoots at the door, draining out all my remaining energy. I visualise my fist grinding into the wood, crunching my bones and spewing out blood. But the impact never comes. My hand never reaches the contact and ends up swaying through empty air. I had lost all my energy in that last punch. I had no strength left in me, not even enough to focus my vision, not even enough to stand on my feet. My legs shake underneath me and suddenly collapse. The world around me slows down as I fall backwards. I swim my blurry vision up where the door is. Strange, I can visualise light beaming in from the open door, lighting up my face. My arms automatically reach out for the blinding light, but don't grab anything. I smile sarcastically at my imagination, and then close my eyes tiredly as I continue to fall, preparing for impact.

"Kyle!"

My eyes fling open at the sudden call. Agonising pain shoots into my eyes and I immediately close them again. The light, it's not my imagination, there's really light. I squint my eyes, using my long eyelashes as a curtain to block out the light, but everything's too blurry. My arms continue to sway in the air aimlessly, melting into the light. Then suddenly, an electric shock shoots through me, from my arm through to my heart. Warmth, something warm has grabbed onto my arm, strong and firm. Confusion and surprise tears my mind and I don't know what to do-

"Kyle, hold on!"

The voice sends another shock into my head and erases all conflicting thoughts out of my mind. My hand automatically grabs onto the arm holding onto me. The hand holding onto my arm loosens for a second in relief, but then regains its strength and another hand grabs hold onto my other arm. The two hands around my arms, firmly secure, pulls me out of the heavy ocean of darkness. My body flies into the open light, I feel like I'm floating in the air, but then gravity gets hold of me and the hands around me pull me down to the ground. I fall into a strong firm chest; magically, I don't end up crushing him down into the ground.

The warmth that enfolds me brings my mind back to reality- the reality of the presence of another person. I'm not alone anymore. Not locked up in the mind-tearing darkness all alone for endless hours. Surrounding me now is nothing but light and warmth.

I chew on my lip and bite down a cry. I am not going to break that promise I made myself in the darkness. I keep my face down and push my forehead into the shoulder of the person holding me.

I won't break my promise, but my tear glands had betrayed me. Streams of tears had begun running down my cheeks.

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><p><strong>A.N- I'm so mean. Mwahahahaha! And my writing seems to be becoming longer. Nothing happens yet it becomes 6000 words. Hm. I was planning to have the next part in this chapter but it became too long so I'm putting it into the next chapter.<strong>

**Anyway! Thank you for reading! Please review. I would love the push to write during the time of busy schoolwork. Friggin' exhibitions…**

**See ya! Thanks again! **


	13. Chapter 13

**A.N- Before I say anything, Thank You so much for your reviews! Love! **

**This is another very slowly updated chapter, and it's short as well. But don't worry! It's only short because it was getting too long and I decided to put it into two chapters. If it's too long I thought that I wouldn't proof read it properly. I'm so lazy.**

**I am going to put up the next chapter real soon though. Tomorrow or the day after? Depends on how much stuff I add. **

**Anyway, please enjoy!**

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><p><em>Kyle! Kyle, hold on!<em>

His words were refreshing and they seemed to echo inside me endlessly.

Everyone calls me Kyle, yet why does it sound so fresh and different this time?

ooo

This might sound a little exaggerated, but I have never felt so safe in my life. The firm arms around me secure my shuttered heart in place; letting me breathe again in what feels like to be the first time in hours. But what keeps me truly at ease, is the warmth that sinks into me. The body temperature that leaks out from his skin into my body gives me the relaxing sense of reassurance: that there's someone right there beside me. It reminds me of that time a few days ago, when I was rescued from the water when I nearly drowned. It's similar to the hands and warmth that held me together that time, but this time, the relief I feel is overwhelming. Maybe it's only because it's straight after such a traumatizing experience, but the safety I feel now, even though my body is still uncontrollably shaking, is unlike anything I've felt before.

I can feel my whole body melt into relaxation as I receive more warmth from the person securing me. I don't know who it is- is what I tell myself. The fact is that I know who it is. The raven black hair and ocean blue eyes that burned into my eyes before I fell into him is an undeniable feature of the person. But I can't break him away. All my strength had drained out of me, and besides, pushing away someone who had saved me would be- you know, rude, right? But deep down I know, that the main reason I won't break away is because I don't want to. The warmth, relaxation, strength, reassurance, all feel too good to let go.

With every second passing I feel the knots inside me untangle and I fall into a deeper relaxation. The funny thing is, the more I relax into the other person's warmth, the tenser he gets. I try and kill down a small chuckle, which sinks into the person's chest I have my face dug into.

After a few deep breaths I finally feel some strength flowing back to my arms and feet. Sharp electricity tickles the tips of my toes as I wiggle them underneath me.

_Okay_- I tell myself. _Time to get up._

"Um… Craig?" My words drown into his chest, but I can tell by the way he tenses up that he can hear me.

"You can let go now"

I nearly suffocate against his shirt, waiting for a reply. But he doesn't respond. Not even a flinch. Maybe he didn't hear me. I sigh out my last breath and open my mouth to repeat-

"I know"

"Huh?" I let out a bubbly sound and freeze inside his arms. That's his response? My confused and impatient mind conflicts with different thoughts until I hear the cool voice continue to talk into my hair.

"I can let you go whenever I like. I just don't want to listen to your orders."

-_What_?

My warmed up body temperature suddenly drops a few degrees and a bitter taste sticks to my tongue. Craig continues to lock me inside him while my mind tries to analyse his words. So he was planning to let me go, but now that I asked him to, he doesn't want to, just because he doesn't want to take my orders? What the hell is wrong with this asshole? I immediately regret even thinking that it was rude to push him away.

"Let me go Craig!"

My whole body begins to burn up again as I struggle to wiggle out of his grip, but he doesn't even budge an inch. What the hell are his slim muscles made out of?

"Craig let me-!"

The rest of my words drown into his shirt as he grabs the back of my head and pushes my face deeper into his shirt, silencing me. My flaming head soon lose its senses as I become more and more desperate for air. Wiggling and moaning in his chest is doing nothing to help me in this situation.

"Craig!"

I stop dead at the sudden voice. The panicked, yet somehow soothing voice did not belong to me. But before my brain could match a face to the voice, a strong impact suddenly releases me from the death-grip, letting my lungs breathe in reviving air.

"He told you to let him go, you fucking pervert!"

"I don't take orders from anyone."

Aggressive shouts enter my ears as I finally regain half my breath back. I open up my watering eye and find two figures wrestling on the ground like a pair of drunken sport-supporting doughheads. Background sound of supporting laughter and nervous shrieks echo in my hollow mind as I stare puzzlingly at the two wrestling figures with confusion.

"Um, Stan and Craig? Ngh- I don't think you guys should be fighting right now" A nervous voice hiccups loudly above me and I look up to see Tweek staring at the two figures with disbelief and anxiety. …Wait, Stan and Craig?

I swing my head back to face the wrestlers and scrunch my nose with contempt. Right there on the ground, two six footers are trying to rip each other up like two girls in a catfight.

With my oh-so-terrifying death glare, I try and psychically make them stop fighting. But no matter how hard I try, no psychic ability shoots out of my eyes. After a few seconds of glaring I feel exhausted and give up, letting all the tension in my eyes flow away with a deep sigh.

"Fucking assholes for making me do this…"

I let all my remaining energy flow to my feet and try to push down onto the ground. My hollow head twirls as I try and balance myself onto my two wobbly feet. I think I hear Tweek's voice call out to me, but I ignore it. I have to put all my concentration into my unreliable balance.

Somehow, I manage to fly up into the air, five feet off the ground. At least, that is what it feels like. My legs feel like they don't belong to me and I can barely control them. My whole vision is suddenly dark blue with flashing lights blinding me. Vague silhouettes moving around the ground are my only clue to where Craig and Stan are. All my senses feel like they're draining out through the tip of my fingers. I feel sick. My brain is twinkling as if it's got pins and needles. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be drunk.

"Wow-" The first step forward is successful. I stretch my arms out like a high ropes performer to steady myself in the air. I sway recklessly and challenge my other foot to take the next step. It works. I smirk proudly at myself, not caring about the long way to go to the two black heads. I take another step, and then the next. My blood feels like it's leaking out of me with every step. The whole world twirls and dissolves around me, but I manage to come up to a couple feet away from the two wrestlers.

I stand there with my hands on my wobbly hips, looking down on the two pulling each other's limbs off, but the two don't seem to notice my approach. _Nuh-uh_. I haven't come all this way, about three feet away, just to be ignored.

For the last time, I lift up my foot to take that one extra step towards the two ravens and open my mouth to shout at them.

"Can't you two assholes just st-"

ooo

_Dude… _

I didn't know that trying to open my eyes could be so hard. My eyelids must weight like, three pounds or something. My brain feels like it's been replaced with my heart and is beating furiously inside my skull.

Through my blurry vision, I can see golden hay swaying in the cerulean sky. I know that I'm lying on my back, but where the hell am I? Without a clue, and without any energy to think, I stare aimlessly at the blue sky, framed with messy golden hay. After staring at the sky for a few seconds my vision begins to clear up and I notice something strange about the sky. Two black dots sway unnaturally in the sky like UFOs, slowly growing larger, coming closer. Wait, everything's coming closer. The spiky hay tickles my cheeks and the sky is stretching out. The sky- the sky is falling-

"OW!"

My forehead smacks into something when I suddenly jump up, making my brain jiggle in my skull like jelly. But it wasn't my voice that shrieked in agony. All of a sudden the golden hay and clear summer sky had disappeared and I'm surrounded with white. White walls, white ceiling, white carpet and white cushions. I cup my forehead firmly, desperate to get rid of the stars taking over my vision.

Okay, so I'm inside, the lounge room probably, and I am on the leather couch. I choose to analyse where I am during the spare time I have rubbing my forehead. Then a sudden realisation comes to me. …If that wasn't me who yelled in pain, then who was it?

I peek out of the corner of my eye and see something rolling around on the floor. Messy golden hay, cerulean blue, of course.

"What the fuck Kenny?" I yell at the poor boy, struggling to keep his split forehead together. But he seems to notice my voice and looks up at me from the floor, a painful smile on his face.

"Great you're finally awake!"

"Huh?"

I look at him with confusion as he jumps up onto the couch next to me, his legs crossed on the cushions and facing me with a wider smile.

"Dude, you were out like, for half an hour!"

"I fainted!"

The news hits me like a frying pan. I couldn't have just fainted from getting up right? I can't be that much of a sissy, right? Embarrassment and helplessness weighs up inside me, making my mind twirl with mindless excuses.

"Don't worry about it Kylie, we could all see that you were pretty wretched then"

"Don't fucking call me Kylie."

I bring my feet up on the couch and dig my face into my knees, trying to hide my face.

"So what happened after that?" I ask him half-heartedly to fill the awkward atmosphere. My face is still burning and Kenny's smile beaming into me isn't helping.

"Nothing much" He says. "We just carried you back and gave Stan and Craig a small lecture. I think Tweek is still lecturing Craig. Poor asshole"

"You lectured Stan?"

"Yup!" He answers proudly.

"What did you tell him?" I can't hide my curiosity, not like there's much to hide. But Kenny simply widens his smile and brings his finger to his mouth.

"Secret guys' business"

…_What_?

I stare at him as if he was a piece of dog crap left behind on the sidewalk by its dog owner. His oh-so-handsome smile could not have been as annoying as it is right now.

"_I_ am a guy too, you know."

"I know that Kylie"

"Fuck you"

I can feel that my blush has completely gone, and now I wear a more, disgusted and annoyed expression on my face.

"So did you carry me back here?" I am still too frustrated and there is no tone of curiosity or excitement in my voice, only utter boredom.

"Nope. I was too busy dragging Kevin back"

I mumble a little 'oh' but don't question any further. Just hearing Kevin's name at the moment prickles my nerve.

A few heavy seconds pass, mostly my fault. I know that Kenny wouldn't break the silence, thinking that I would probably bite him if he did so.

"Is Tweek still lecturing Craig?"

"I guess so."

A simple question I ask attempting to break the awkward silence fails with Kenny's quick answer. All I want now is to start a dumb little conversation.

"I can't image Tweek being able to lecture him. Even I would be nervous lecturing that laser-eyed poker-faced son of a bitch."

"Ha! Tweek's got it in him. Not to mention that he can get pretty harsh towards Craig when he wants" Kenny's voice fills the room, finally lighting up the atmosphere.

"Yeah I know" I say slightly defensively, my spirits heating up a bit. "But if that's not enough for Craig, I will finish him off"

"Don't be so harsh on the guy dude"

Kenny's voice feels like it just dropped down a few degrees, contrasting largely from the smile on his face. It cools me down, creating surprise and confusion in my head.

"Why not?" I manage to make out. Kenny's somewhat pitiful smile makes me wait anxiously and patiently for an answer.

"Because the guy isn't so bad. Not as much as you think he is anyway."

"How would you know" I mutter out bitterly. But I don't have much confidence in denying it. It is just a simple statement to defend my pride. I expect Kenny to suddenly lecture me, tell me how I am so pessimistic and cynical towards people, especially Craig. But his reaction betrays my expectation. The cool air around him suddenly lifts up again, and his pitiful smile melts into a warmer, more accepting one. I suddenly feel really childish and embarrassed. It feels like he can see right through me.

"Man you should have seen him- us, while you were locked in that cellar-ish thingy. It was pretty exciting, if not panicky"

He stretches his arms in the air and flips down onto his back, lifting his feet up onto my lap. But I don't bother to push them off. I'm too preoccupied staring disbelievingly at the relaxed blond.

"You wanna know what happened?"

He looks at me through the corner of his eye, challengingly, as if testing how honest I could be with my desires. My stomach twitches with the urge to say that I don't give a shit about what had happened, but honestly-. I give up. I look down, not looking at him in the eye, and nod deeply.

I can feel his stupid smile grow a few inches, beaming brightly at me. This is why I didn't want to say that I wanted to know. His over-dramatic amusement gets on my nerves, making me feel like I'm the most stupid person on the planet.

All I wanted to do is start a conversation with him to break the awkward silence, and this is what I get. I sigh once deeply, and loosen up my muscles, relaxing myself from the tension. I don't know how long this story is going to take.

As if beginning to make a dramatic speech, Kenny clears his throat with three deep coughs, still lying on his back, and begins his story.

ooo

_Tweek woke me up this morning. I was all ready to ignore him and all, but he sounded all nervous and scared, more than usual, I mean. _

"_Hey, where's Kyle?" He whispered really loudly, leaning into me with wide eyes, which was kinda scary. _

_But I was really tired and annoyed so I was like "Why the fuck would I know? Isn't he sleeping on the couch?" But Tweek shook his head frantically, so I was like 'Huh', interested and all awake now. "Did you check Craig's room?" I suggested. Tweek nodded. Said that Craig was all grumpy for waking him up. So Tweek just ran back to our room and decided to wake me up instead._

_So without any clue, we just sat there guessing where you were, but none of the ideas sounded convincing. But after about a minute or so Craig came into our room, without knocking of course. He was still half asleep and grumpy, scratching his hair lazily like this, and said. "Where's Broflovski?" He must've been curious, or worried, after Tweek woke him up and asked him._

_When we said that we didn't know and that we were thinking about it right now, Craig just, ignored us and went out the room. He looked like he knew something, or maybe he just seemed that way because he looked all calm and poker-faced, but he looked kinda reliable so Tweek and I just followed him. _

_So we just followed him, without a clue, looking at each other nervously, until Craig came to Stan's door. Then it came to me and I became all excited saying that you, Kyle, would've crept inside Stan's room and slept together, because Craig was an asshole and the couch sucked ass. Then Tweek tried to convince Craig to knock before bursting in, but it was too late. Craig kicked the door open, nearly breaking the whole thing down, making all of us jump. He must get his kicking ability from that Aikido thing. You can't attack in Aikido? Then it must be from Sumo wrestling from elementary. You can't kick in Sumo? Then whatever! How the fuck would I know?_

_Anyway, he kicked the door open, and as he walked towards Stan's bed I was expecting him to start bashing him or something. But he just pulled the covers off the bed and grabbed Stan by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up. Then he said, coolly, "Wake up loser, we're looking for Kyle"_

_Stan was at first all confused and pissed off, but then after we told him that you were missing he became all worried and panicked. I think I was the only sane one thinking that you were out for a walk or something lame like that. But it turned out to be that I was wrong though, huh?_

_Anyway, we were all about to leave the house to look for you, without any clue to where you were. But just as we were about to leave the house, we heard Cartman's loud laughter coming from the lounge room: the television screen had turned on by itself. We were all ready to ignore it, until he said with that fat mouth of his "Oi, Assholes! You wanna know where Kyle is or not?" And yeah, that kinda got our attention. _

_After hearing your name, Craig and Stan went bursting into the lounge room, ready to throw a brick through the television. Calm Mr. me and chocked-to-the-bone Tweek slowly followed the two into the lounge room, where Cartman was on the screen laughing amusingly at the two mad ravens. We started swearing and threatening the fatass to spill where you were but the fatass spent another couple of minutes just entertaining himself with our desperateness. _

_Finally after he laughed himself out, he began talking about some kind of 'game'. "We haven't had many games recently and the viewers are looking for some excitement" He said. "So I decided to give you guys a surprise challenge. As you guys may have noticed, Kyle has gone missing. And the only two people in this world who knows where he is, is me, and the person who took him away. Even Kyle wouldn't know where he is right now" _

_Then we all got a clue of what was going on: you were kidnapped, in a role-play kinda sense. We all must've looked pretty shocked then, because Cartman was smirking his chubby cheeks off as if he was observing the most amusing guineapigs. We could tell that he was up to something- mmm, not good. And just as we feared, he began talking about his little 'game'. _

"_Somebody has kidnapped Kyle this morning" He said. "He has been taken away somewhere outside this house, in the forest. Somewhere, down underground perhaps. And it is your job, to find him and bring him back safely, if you can" Come to think of it now, he was just playing with us. Unless he knew that you were mind-blowingly afraid of darkness, small places or whatever. But he succeeded in 'making us lose our cool' if that's what he wanted. Because the next second we all rushed out the door, ignoring Cartman who was shouting at us to come back. He still had something to say probably. Well it was mostly Craig who ignored the fatass and dashed out the house. The rest of us were ready to listen to Cartman finish. But thanks to Craig, we rushed out the house and all we knew was that you were somewhere underground in the forest, and we had to look for you with just that. _

_So we followed Craig outside, sprinted after him, more like. We called after him desperately, but he wouldn't stop to listen. He just kept on running aimlessly, and he's really fast, you know. The only person who could catch up to him was Stan, while me and Tweek struggled to keep up. But when Stan caught up to him, man, it was intense. Stan grabbed onto Craig's shoulder to stop him, but then Craig just whacked his hand off. Stan was able to stop him with that though. _

_They stood there glaring at each other for a few seconds, until Stan finally said, "Calm down Craig", simply and calmly. But it must've ticked Craig off._

_Craig said, "How the hell am I meant to calm down? How can you be so calm?" And they were like, grabbing each other by the shirt, trying to kill the other with killer eyes. It's funny though, isn't it? Craig's usually really cool and calm, but he can get really worked up sometimes. Anyway, Craig knew that he was worked up way too much. After a few seconds he just clicked his tongue and swore, but then he calmed down. _

"_So he's somewhere in the forest, underground" Craig began calmly, after a deep breath. "We could start digging everywhere, but that's stupid. …He's with the kidnapper, probably, if this is a game. The kidnapper would be with him, not underground, but where he is, working as a sign" His mindless mutter began to form sense. At least then we knew that we didn't need to dig everywhere. _

_So we split individually to look for this 'kidnapper'. We didn't know who he was or where he would be, so we all took different places to look. We all looked for an hour but couldn't find anything, so we all came back here. Then we chose that we would look together. _

_After looking and calling out for you for another hour we finally came to the really deep end of the forest, on the other side of the lake. That's when we finally met my bro. That son of a bitch. When we first saw him we were all surprised and confused and we didn't think that he'd be the kidnapper. So we asked him if he had seen anything or anyone, and he just said 'nope', so we were going to leave, just like that. We also thought that if you were somewhere underground, you still would have made some sound. It was dead quiet there except for us. But Craig didn't seem convinced. He kept glaring at Kevin as if trying to see right through him. And just as we were about to go, Craig suddenly stopped. Then he turned around towards Kevin and said, "You're lying."_

_Craig then grabbed Kevin by the shirt and pulled him close, as if he was about to bite his nose off or something. Then he quietly and coolly, began to interrogate him. "You're the kidnapper. Why are you here? Where the fuck did you hide Kyle" and stuff like that. But Kevin just kept his puzzled smile and played dumb. That wasn't a good idea. We didn't get the chance to stop Craig, before he punched Kevin in the face. _

_It made an exploding sound, Kevin just crashed to the ground, fully knocked out. You should've heard it. Or maybe you did. Because a second after that, we began to hear something hitting the ground frantically. And a person's voice- your voice, saying 'Let me out!' We were all too overwhelmed by the scene, so Craig was the first to react to the sound. He rushed straight to the sound and began digging his fingers into the ground, looking for something that'll open up the ground. Then he finally found something, and part of the ground just flew open. You know what happened after that. _

_He called your name, without hesitation, and fished you out the dark. Dude, you literally flew out of there. How much do you weigh? You need to eat more shrimpy. Ow! Okay, okay, I'm sorry!_

_Anyway, after that you two were hugging onto each other as if your lives depended on it, up to the point that it was becoming a bit gay and annoying. I mean, we were trying to save you too; didn't we deserve a hug as well? Ouch! Okay I get it! I'll stop! Anyway, you guys were hugging and it was becoming kind of like a competition. You were trying to wiggle out of him while he was squeezing you tight. I bet you thought he was being a stubborn asshole for not letting you go, right? Don't blame you. I bet I was the only person who could see the real picture there. …Do you wanna know? Don't pout Kyle; you should be more honest to your curiosity. Anyway, you were digging your face in his chest to hide your face, right? …To hide your tears. Craig was just doing the same thing too. No, he wasn't crying. He must have felt really at ease and relaxed. But he must have been really embarrassed as well. Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but he was-_

…_Funny, right?_

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><p><strong>A.N- So that's part one. Short, I know! But the next one might be shorter… <strong>

**I hope you don't mind a lot of narration/dialogue kinda thing. This chapter and the next are full of it. And yeah, I had too much fun writing Kenny. **

**Funny story, a page before writing before Kyle's fainting incident, I went to the gym and nearly fainted for the first time in my life. Yeah, I don't have an exciting life. But it was horrible. But at least I could use it in my story: that's the only thing that I was thinking while lying on my back with my legs up above my heart. **

**I don't like the sound of my own voice, but I seem to write really long author's notes… sorry.**

**And thanks for reading! **


	14. Chapter 14

**A.N- I said that this would be shorter than the last chapter, depending on how much I add. But it ended up being 1000 words longer. **

**Thank you so much for your reviews! And I tried to make this as fast as I could.**

**I hope you enjoy it!**

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><p>Kenny draws his lips away from my ear and lights up a small, challenging smile.<p>

"…Funny, right?"

ooo

I cup my ear Kenny just whispered into with both my hands. My whole face is burning from embarrassment, but I try and hide it with a pout. The only thing that actually hides my blushing face from Kenny are my hands around my ear, working as the only wall between me and him. But I can tell that he can see right through it. His grin shining into my face feels warm, not mocking; I don't know which one I'd rather prefer though. Then Kenny finally opens his mouth to break the unbearable silence, letting me relax just a tiny bit.

"If it wasn't for Craig we wouldn't have found you so fast, which still took a few hours, but it would have easily taken another few if Craig didn't punch Kevin in the face"

I tense up again after listening to his words, and I also feel a little guilty. My blush has gone away but I keep my hands in place, just to let myself hide from the blond for a little longer.

"So don't be so harsh on him." His soft voice suggests to me, gently, like calming a little child down. It makes the guilt inside me build up a little more, and I drop my heavy hands from my ear, breaking the wall between us.

"Now I'm not saying that I'm on his side or nothin'. I'm just saying that-" Kenny's voice suddenly lights up into his usual playful tone, as if trying to get rid of the heavy atmosphere that was surrounding us.

I look at him through the corner of my narrowed eyes. His cerulean blue orbs stare warmly right back at me. Impatience begins to tick inside me and my mouth deepens its pout from irritation as I wait for Kenny to finish his sentence.

"I'm just saying that you look much cuter laughin' than you do frownin'"

My heart jumps a beat from the unexpected words and heat begins to rise to my cheeks with embarrassment.

"What- what- the hell- as if-"

Meaningless words blubber out my mouth as I try to hide myself from Kenny's amused smile with my hands. Where the hell did that come from? That was so random and it doesn't even fall into anything he was just saying! What is he smiling at? Fucking perverted irrational inconsistent stupid blob-

My mind blanks out as cool hands cup my cheeks, making me stare into his cerulean eyes.

"That's what I'm talking about!" I can feel my face burn as Kenny drops into an irritating laughter. I aggressively flick his hands away and start punching the frustrating blond in the shoulder. As if I want to be fucking cute! I'm a fucking rude, dirty, mud-loving dude!

My face continues to burn as I try to curl down the edges of my mouth. My cheeks blush and my stomach flips with rage as I continue to punch the laughing clown. But why is my mouth betraying all my inner feelings and reacting to Kenny's words? The curl around my lips just doesn't seem to want to curl back down.

"Fuck you Kenny!" is all I say as I continue to create new bruises on him.

Then suddenly, an electrical sound playing the melody of Beethoven's 5th symphony in C minor echoes in the empty room, making the two of us stop in the middle of our little fight. We both look towards the kitchen, at the small telephone stuck to the wall, flickering its lights to the beat of the song. I still can't get used to the ring tone of that telephone. It's just plain weird.

"I'll get it"

As if it was the best excuse, Kenny quickly wiggles out from underneath me, making me slide off onto the ground with a thump. I glare at the blond who ignores my eyes, and rub my bruised butt. Kenny says the usual friendly 'hey's and 'you wanna talk to Kyle's and- huh?

"Kyle it's for you"

I'm brought back to reality with Kenny's call. He holds the phone out towards me from the kitchen, indicating me to come get it. I reactively stop rubbing my butt and walk towards the phone, hesitantly taking it from Kenny's hand. I push the speaker to my ear, repeatedly pleading inside my head 'Please don't be Cartman, please not Cartman'.

"Hello?"

"Kyle! Kyle? Are you okay?"

His high voice shoots into my ear, shaking my eardrums and thumping in my head. If I didn't take the phone off my ear in time I would have definitely gone deaf.

"Yeah Ike, I'm fine" I say cautiously, after making sure that he was done screaming.

"You're fine! Dude, you were down there for hours! How dare that fucking fatass do that to you! He's the one who caused your phobia; he should at least have the decency to not open up your infected wounds with a rusty butterknife! I mean he's the fucking one that caused it! I'm going to fucking kill him!"

I can hear frantic panting coming from the end of the phone. All that non-stop yelling would have taken away all his breath. I can just imagine the tips of his black hair pointing upwards in rage and his cheeks burning up to a bright red, making his hazel eyes glow out on his scarlet face.

"Calm down Ike, just take a breath. I'm fine, see?" I give the cameras on the ceiling a small wave, showing that I'm all in one piece.

"Only because of that asshole that I shouldn't probably call an asshole anymore because-"

"You mean Craig Tucker?" I break him off.

"Yeah Craig whatever. I shouldn't call him an asshole now that he saved you, should I?"

For a split second my heart feels like it stoped bumping and I freeze in my spot.

"…Still doesn't change the fact that he's an asshole…" I mutter defensively under my breath. I don't know why I feel so defensive, and I don't sound convincing, even to myself.

"Anyway! It was good to hear that you're okay! Tell Cartman that I'll kill him! Bye!"

By the time I notice that he was talking, he had hung up the phone and an empty _beep_ was echoing repeatedly out the speaker. Why do my conversations with Ike on the phone end up being so one-sided? I give out a deep sigh, trying to let all my ragged feelings drain away.

I wish everyone would just shut up about Craig.

ooo

I sit on the floor patiently, my knees brought up to my chest with my back leaning against the door. How long have I been sitting here for? Three, four minutes? –Let's just say twenty. So I've been awaiting here with my heart beating really loud and fast. I bet that if he doesn't come soon, my heart is going to beat so hard that it'll jump up my throat, out my mouth and onto the floor. But at the same time, half of myself hopes that he won't come, which is impossible. He is sure to come here sooner or later, logically speaking.

Ever since we came back from the forest everyone has been on my back talking about how 'non-asshole' Craig is. I'm really getting sick of it. Kenny, Ike, Tweek, even Butters called up after that and gave me a mini lecture. The only person who hasn't said anything about it is Stan (thank god). But all those small lectures have forced me to think about it. And now, I'm wondering if I should consider the idea that Craig isn't a complete douchebag. Only a little bit, like 'give him a chance' bit.

Dinner was a nightmare. My mind was wondering off deep into thought the whole time I was cooking. It was too late by the time Tweek shrieked at me. Now I have about seven small bandaids on my hands, hiding the cuts I got while cooking. Eating was even worse. I was unconsciously staring at Craig, trying to analyse whether he was or was not, truly an asshole. Thanks to that, most of my food was stolen away by Kenny.

But then I just got fed up with it. I have to admit, I might not be so intelligent in the non-study areas, so… I just gave up. I decided that I wasn't going to think about it anymore and that I was going to ask him myself, even if I have to be open about everything, whatever 'everything' entails. And I'll try and say the 'T' word to him, I mean, maybe he deserves it, right?

So I've been sitting here, waiting since ten o'clock. My hair is still dump from the shower, dropping small droplets onto my shoulder and back, making my pyjamas stick to my skin. I let out a large sneeze just thinking about the cold. Why didn't I bring my towel with me? And why didn't that fatass provide us with some warm clothes? Just because it's summer doesn't mean that it's going to be boiling hot-

Another sneeze interrupts my thoughts, blanking out my head for a second, cooling down my hot temper.

Maybe I should just leave. What am I doing here anyway? Waiting for him to come back from the shower, I don't even know what I'm going to say to him. I don't even have an excuse to be sitting here in front of the door, blocking the entrance.

My speeding heart and warming face makes my brain come up with excuses to leave, to run away. The words in my head overcome me, pressuring me. It's not too late; I can still leave here without anyone noticing that I was here waiting for him to begin with.

I cling to the small hope with slight panic. My hands release themselves around my knees and drop to the ground, ready to push me up to my feet so that I could run out the room. But then, just as I was about to push myself up, something firm slams against my back and I instantly freeze.

"What the hell?"

The sound of a monotone voice leaks through the wooden door, making my whole body shudder. I was too late.

"…Is someone there?"

He waits for a reply, which I don't give him. My whole body is frozen, just like a deer caught in headlights. I was just about to run away, and now I'm caught here with a blank mind, lost in what to do.

But what am I supposed to do? Suddenly start acting nice to him just because people are telling me to, or because he might actually turn out to be a nice guy?

"Move asshole, I'm gonna catch a cold out here."

His bitter words sound frustrated and irritated, and it brings me straight back to reality. The edge in his voice remains the same: he is still the usual douche. But he sort of has the right to be mad I guess. He just got out of the shower, so he's probably half naked with his hair drenched with water. And I'm just sitting here, in front of his bedroom door, blocking his entrance. With my mind swimming with confused thoughts all I manage to squeeze out is-

"No."

I can feel him freeze behind the door, all tensed up with surprise and confusion, staring at the closed door like a stunned mullet. I was probably the last person he was expecting to be in this room. The thought prickles something inside me. Why should _I_ be the last person to be in here? This is half my room as well.

"Broflovski?"

My heart suddenly bounces in my chest, hitting against my ribs. His sudden call caught me off guard, reminding me of the reason why I was here.

"…What?"

"What are you doing?"

I bite my inner lip, still not ready to give up my good-for-nothing pride.

"What do you think I'm doing?"

"Blocking my entrance?"

His immediate answers give me no time to take a breath. He sure has a natural instinct to push people into the corner; or maybe it just feels that way because I was already there.

"No, I was just here thinking… um… wanting to… talk to you?" the last words drown into a mumble, which I bet would be barely audible on the other side of the door.

"What do you want to talk about?"

Damn it! Curse his big long rabbit ears! The small hope in me that he might have not heard me shutters into a million shards of embarrassment. Now I have to talk to him. As I look desperately for words in my head I hear a heavy voice sigh behind the door.

"Can I first come in?" Craig says with a resigned tone of voice.

"No way!" The words burst out my mouth without my permission; by the time I clasp my mouth with my hands it was too late.

"Why not?"

Damn it. Now I have to tell him.

"…Because… I don't want you to see my face… okay?"

Now Kyle Broflovski, being honest wasn't so hard right? The air seems to have disappeared all around us and I suddenly feel like suffocating, I can't breathe.

Not hard? Fuck, that was so embarrassing! How can Tweek and Butters get on with being honest all the fucking time? I dig my boiling face into my knees again, hiding myself from the air around me. The fact that Craig doesn't make a sarcastic comment about it is even worse. Is he that taken aback? I feel like a complete bonehead!

"…Fine" The small response breaks my trail of thought. His voice is small and calm, he sounds a little troubled, but the usual edge and bitterness in his voice are somehow hidden away.

Then I suddenly feel something hit against the door, making me jump in my spot. My brain instantly thinks that he is going to crash the door open, but the strong impact doesn't come. Then I feel something slide gently against the other side of the door, slide, until something lands on the floor. Oh… I think I understand what happened. Craig has sat on the other side of the door, leaning his back against the wood, just like me.

We lean against each other with only the thin door separating us. I suddenly feel completely at ease and my body relaxes into the door. My thumping heart slows down into a calming beat and the knots in my head slowly untangle. And I ask him, without much thought, the question that's been lingering inside me for the last few days.

"…Do you like me?"

I first notice what I'm saying after the words come out. But it's been something that I wanted to clear out. Maybe it's a stupid question, but he didn't give me a straight answer last time I asked him. Honestly, I don't know what I'll do if he said yes; I can just imagine the awkward atmosphere that would come after it. But if he says no, I think I would have to punch him. Doing all that stuff to someone you don't like deserves a frying pan to the head.

I wait patiently for a reply with my face dug into my knees again. My heart is thumping like I've just run a hundred metre marathon and I can feel the blood in my face boiling up. Waiting for a reply is agonising with the question I just asked echoing in my head endlessly, stirring up my embarrassment. But the guy doesn't seem to answer. Just please hurry up and put me out of my misery!

"I hated you," he begins, making my thumping heart stop in its spot, but then he continues, "or more like your whole gang during most of elementary school. You guys would always get yourselves caught up in things which you would call 'adventures'. You even got me caught up in one once. It was bothersome to say the least, because I always liked boring things. You guys were always doing something and always seemed to be excited. Especially you, Broflovski, you were never the ambitious one, but you were always the hot-blooded one, always excited. I've always hated that."

He pauses for a second, as if going into deep thought. My blush had cooled down but my blood was boiling in a different way now. I asked him if he likes me and all I'm getting is how much he hates me. If he's not asking for a fight, I don't know what he's doing. And he continues his story, with a more wondering tone.

"I've always been popular with the girls. I don't know what they like about me, but it's not one or two times that they've asked me out"

Okay, that's it. I'm gonna punch him.

"But it's also not one or two times that they've dumped me"

…Huh?

My frustration instantly cools down, and the hot tension around us suddenly drops a few degrees. The door between us magically disappears in my imagination, and I can see his face clearly: bored and cold looking, with his eyes on the floor yet looking as though he's scanning straight through the wood.

"It's always the same thing. The girls would act all excited and say how they like me and how happy they are to be with me. But then after a week or so, they begin to get all frustrated and then they would break up with me. Saying that 'I am too cold' and that 'I didn't have any feelings'. It never bothered me, but their same words always lingered in my head. But I never gave much thought to it."

He doesn't sound sad or bothered, but just plain emotionless with slight wonder, like reading out a boring maths question. But strangely, my mind is completely blank for once. We just sit there, our backs leaning against each other through the wooden door. With him telling his personal story and me sinking in his words. And he continues, with the heavy weight lifted off from his voice.

"Then in middle school, your gang broke up, and it was you who did it. At first I didn't know why, I just thought 'finally he's cooled down and grown up', but I was wrong. You were still the same, loud, excited, short-tempered, hot-blooded Kyle Broflovski. It made me irritated and frustrated. Were you ever going to grow up, how long was it going to take you to cool own? But then I noticed. The true reason of my irritation towards you wasn't because that I hated you, but it was because I was completely jealous of you. Jealous of how you could be interested in everything, how you could get excited about the smallest things, and how you could care so much about something. …And it made me realise that what I truly hated, was my own cold, dry, uncaring self. But that thought made me feel defeated, so I couldn't admit it. And then I decided to challenge you instead.

"I began to bully to you, seeing how far you could get pushed. I wondered that if I pushed you hard enough, then maybe I could break your high pride and force you to cool down. But you never broke, even when I edged you in while there was no one around, you would always stand up for yourself. I began thinking about new ways to push you, maybe even thinking about it too much.

"… Then I found out that Cartman and his gang were also bullying you. I didn't like it, and it made me feel competitive. But then finally, you gave in. Your arms: you began to wear long sleeves. But it didn't make me feel good. I had accomplished my goal, yet it made me feel like I hated myself even more. So I stopped bullying you for a while. I was more frustrated and irritated than ever, and I began taking it out on Cartman's gang instead. I didn't know why, they just felt like they were the most annoying people alive."

I remember everything; the scenes of those days play over in my head like a video. The day when the bullying got worse and I finally gave in. But then for a while, Craig stopped. And soon after that, Cartman and his gang stopped as well. I never knew why, until now.

"…Then I began to bully you again, and to my surprise, you still stood up to me. And even more surprisingly, it made me feel completely relieved; you were still unbroken, you hadn't changed. But at the same time, the relief completely confused me. Wasn't it my goal to break you? It made no sense to me. So for once in my life, I thought about my feelings, and I'm not used to be thinking about my feelings.

"I didn't talk to you while I was thinking, and the answer just wouldn't come out. I thought and thought, but it was no use, so I just gave up. And I started bullying you again. Then suddenly, the answer came out, the answer that didn't come out no matter how hard I thought, simply popped up the minute I talked to you again. Why I felt relieved when I knew that you didn't change, even after you developed a complex for your arms because of my, and Cartman's, bullying.

"The answer was simple: it was because I didn't want to really hurt you. But then that lead to another answer, one that I wasn't looking for and probably didn't want to find out. Teasing you was fun, and I liked it. You stood up to me, facing me straight on without hiding anything. You weren't nice and boring, but I didn't hate it. And I noticed that I was thinking about you, way too much, to simply call my feelings towards you 'jealousy' or even 'like'.

"…Does that answer your question?"

His monotonous voice ends the story with a simple question, simple, but difficult to answer. While listening to most of his story my shallow but fast heartbeat has been beating continuously in my ear. The quick beating in my ear interferes my trace of thought, and what he explains to be such a simple story sounds so confusing and embarrassing to my ears. Yet he just sits there, probably with his poker face, telling his story as if he's reading it out of a textbook.

From asking him a simple question of whether or not he liked me, I had to be given this long confusing personal story. It's worse than being told 'I like you' a hundred times on end. And he hasn't even answered my question directly.

I focus my mind on thinking and complaining, just so that I can avoid saying anything. But thanks to my embarrassment, the silence around us is awkward and itchy, but strangely, it doesn't seem heavy.

Even after he had finished telling his story, Craig hasn't ordered me to open the door to let him in. I feel relieved for this. I wouldn't be able to show my face right now, which is probably glowing all red. But that reminds me of what Kenny said to me earlier. It makes me wonder. Kenny said that while I was hiding my face, so was he.

Craig told his personal story with his monotonous voice, but being completely open for once. Maybe it's his way of hiding his embarrassment. To be wearing a poker face and using a monotonous voice, acting all defiant, as if it wasn't a big deal. I was jealous about him being able to say anything without feeling embarrassed, but maybe it's just his way of hiding what he wants to hide, but at the same time, what he really wants to show.

"…I don't get those girls"

"What?"

The words just dropped out of my mouth without real thought. It was barely a whisper but somehow, Craig had heard me. Maybe he was waiting for me to say something all this time. I wasn't going to say this out loud, but might as well say it if he heard me.

"Those girls who dumped you. They said that you were the most cold, emotionless person, right? I just don't get it."

"How come?"

He sounds confused and irritated, probably because of my sudden, random statement and long explanation.

"Because you're probably one of the most hot-blooded person I know"

Instant silence comes between us. The second I finish talking Craig silences, making me feel as though I had said something bad. _Did_ I say something bad? I didn't think it was an embarrassing statement when I said it. But the silence now makes me think of it as something that I shouldn't have said. The silence this time is not calm and relaxing like the last one. Or maybe it only feels that way because I'm the last one who spoke, making me the one causing the silence.

I look desperately in my head for something to say, but I can't think of anything at the moment. Maybe I should just move and let him in, run away from here. Then something pops up in my head. Something I was meant to say from the very beginning. But should I say it now?

"Umm- Craig?" I don't wait for an answer before I continue. "I heard from Kenny about what happened while I was inside the small cellar. And I heard that it was, er, because of you that I got out so early, and, all I wanted to say was, um" I gulp down a chunk in my throat before continuing. I only want to say it once so I'm going to have to make it clear. I close my eyes tight and brace for it.

"…Thank you"

…_Tick. Tick. Tick_.

Imaginary clocks tick all around me as I sit there, with all my body tensed up as if getting ready for a bomb to drop, waiting for a reply. But nothing comes.

"Craig?"

Still no reply. The tension in my body releases with confusion and I look back towards the door. Is he even there?

"Craig? You there?"

I release my knees to turn around. He still isn't replying. Bitterness begins to tickle the bridge of my nose. If he had walked away without listening to my gratitude, I'm gonna punch him.

Now, standing up with my shoulders tensed up in attack mode, I grab onto the door handle. Then with the anger and embarrassment that was building inside me, I pull the handle with all my might, ready to get that son of a bitch.

But then I freeze. The anger inside me instantly disappears, replacing my insides with cold and heavy ice instead. In front of me now, without the door dividing us apart anymore, is Craig Tucker. His hair is dripping wet, the droplets shinning off lights of glowing blue. Water sinks deep into the small towel around his shoulders, the only thing covering his upper body. Just watching him makes me feel cold, even worse, guilty. He probably got out of the shower thinking that he would come straight back to this room and grab a shirt. But because I was in here, blocking his entrance, he was forced to sit out here topless, drenched with water, and tell a long story.

"…Dude, you're gonna catch a cold" is the first thing that comes out my mouth. The words are more like a statement, forgotten to be wrapped up with a tone of remorse.

"Oh yeah? And who's fault do you think that- nch!" He pauses and rubs his nose, and I stare at him blankly as he does. …Was that a sneeze?

"Dude, cute sneeze, bless you, but you should first come in and put something on before you really catch a- ACHOO!"

Argh, his sneeze passed onto me. But then I remember that my hair is also drenched and dripping onto my pyjamas. I rub my nose roughly, and as I do, I notice Craig's dirty stare digging into my face.

"What?" I ask defensively.

"…You have a loud sneeze for a shrimp"

"Wha-" For once, his voice doesn't contain any venom, but the words that come out of him are enough to infuriate me. But I don't get the chance to get back at him for it.

Before I could finish my word, Craig barges inside the room, rubbing his arms for warmth. He walks straight past me, completely ignoring my irritation and anger. I glare daggers into his back as he crouches in front of his box, looking for a shirt. But the glaring seems to work, his twitches his back as if he felt a sudden itch, and turns back to face me.

"What?" His poker face and monotonous voice prickles my nerve. Does this asshole even care if someone's mad at him? God he's so insensitive and-

"Are you gonna sleep here?" His words break my trace of thought. When I look at him with my mind blank, not knowing what to think, my eyes naturally draw into his ocean-blue ones that stare right into mine. "Or are you going to sleep on the couch again?"

The sarcasm in his voice hits me like an ice cube. But strangely, it makes me realise how light I feel now. The knots inside me have untangled into straight threads. What those threads represent, I don't even know. But my mind has cleared up now, refreshed and full of temper.

"Are you kidding? If I sleep on that leather couch for one more night I'm gonna break my back!"

So I follow him into the room and jump onto my own bed, the one that hasn't been used since the last room-change. I hit the bed on my stomach, bounce an inch into the air, and land safely back. The mattress sinks all my body weight in, relaxing my muscles and joints that I've been using all day. Yeah, this is much better than that stupid couch, heavenly, even. If you could touch clouds, this is what it'll feel like to lay on one.

"I'm gonna sleep here…" I make myself clear by muttering into my pillow. The rustling of sheets and bedcovers coming from the bed beside me tells me that Craig has dug himself into his bed. So I do the same and wiggle myself in between the bed covers. The relaxation that overcomes me makes me leak out a deep sigh.

The lights are off, it's completely dark. But I'm not alone, and I'm not locked up somewhere small. Just reminding myself of that fact reassures me of a good night's sleep, and I slowly close my eyes. As I do, I can make out Craig's silhouette roll over in his sleep. In the darkness, I imagine that I can see Craig's face as my eyes slowly become used to the light.

My eyelids finally meet each other, and complete darkness surrounds me. But before I drown into a deep sleep, Craig's earlier words repeat in my head.

"_Does that answer your question?"_

Yeah, it does Craig, in the most embarrassing and circumferential way. I don't get why he wouldn't simply say it. That would've been much quicker and less embarrassing. I guess we both have different ideas towards embarrassment and how we hide it. Maybe we are the _complete_ opposite.

While I think it's embarrassing to show all my emotions openly, hiding my embarrassment with outswearing or simply hiding my face, Craig seems to find more specific things embarrassing, and tries to hide them by doing things that are even more embarrassing.

But even though we may seem to be the complete opposite, we still have our similarities. Right?

ooo

"_Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but Craig was turning red, trying to hide his blush by holding onto you. …Funny, right?"_

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><p><strong>A.N- I hope you didn't get bored out by Craig's narration. But he tries to hide his embarrassment by being emotionless and getting straight to the point, so, don't blame him. Now I want to write a story about their middle school ages. Teehee. <strong>

**I imagine every scene in my head in a manga or anime form so the scenes make sense to me, but when I make it into words everything sounds grubby and ridiculous. Please tell me if they don't make sense. My history teacher said that I had to work on my collocation or something. Damn my stupid linguisticability!**

**Thank you for reading! **


	15. Chapter 15

**A.N- This took so long to update. But now I have finished my Japanese oral exam that I've been working on for months, maybe there'll be faster updates! Until exam week at least…**

**But boy… You do not know how much this chapter sucks. Well, I guess you will when you read it. Just a fun chapter before everything begins to move towards an end. **

**Oh, well. I really do hope you enjoy it though.**

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><p>"Broflovski…"<p>

A monotonous voice echoes somewhere far in the distance, but its emotionless tone does nothing to spark my interest. So I choose to ignore it, and let myself float in the calming darkness.

"Broflovski…"

The voice calls my name again, but yet again, I decide to ignore it. It's strange how I really can't give a shit about the call. My ears hear the words and my mind understands it, but it just flows right through me without triggering any feelings. Staying asleep, remaining in this blank, dreamless state seems much more important to me right now.

The voice stops calling me. Not like it matters. Even if the voice called me again, it would only affect me as much as a small water drop would affect the whole ocean. Maybe create small ripples, but nothing mind blowing. So the voice quiets, and the small ripples it created in my calm darkness slowly expand into nothingness.

"…Kyle"

The voice calls my name again, more quietly and carefully than before. But what is meant to be a small call, nothing more affective than a small droplet, shakes my calm darkness, creating a large tsunami inside me.

My body jumps up to conscious, my eyes wide awake with surprise and confusion. It was only once before that that voice called my name like that. I turn my head to the side and look into the wide-open eyes of the caller. He's surprised. Although he only shows it with his widened ocean blue eyes, it is still a rare thing. But all my mind can focus on right now is-

"…Did you just call me Kyle?"

The question seems to take him off guard. His widened eyes widens up even more, the tips of his eyelashes brushing his furrowing eyebrows (wow, that's impressive). He's more stunned by the question than I expected him to be, not like I thought through the question before I asked it. But now I feel a bit interested in how he's going to answer.

"…What? It's not like it's the first time I called you by your first name."

Oh, so he came with the douchey 'so what' response, huh? Of course I remember him calling my name when he saved me yesterday. That's the main reason why I reacted so dramatically to his call. But I am not so crazy about saying that to him, so I just ignore him and rip the blanket off of me, ready to wake up.

With my head still woozy from waking up, I slowly slide myself off the bed and onto my feet. There's much more strength in my legs now, after a good night's sleep. They were a little wobbly during the whole day yesterday. Feeling strength rushing through my feet feels good, I don't feel week and vulnerable anymore. The good feeling makes me stand up straight in front of the raven-haired boy. My eyes quickly scan through him. I can't tell if he has already changed his clothes. The white sweat pants and shirt used for sleeping are identical to the white sweat pants and shirt used for daytime. My eyes finally land on his, slight confusion stirring the dark blue.

"Morning Craig" I say to him casually. The confusion in his eyes stirs a bit more.

"…Morning Broflovski" He mumbles back.

I laugh lightly at him through my nose and walk past him. I feel his confused gaze on me as I walk to my box and dig out a shirt and short-shorts, but I ignore it. My mind is still fuzzy and it's hard to keep my mind straight.

"Hey Craig?" I ask him as I rip my pyjama top off my head. He doesn't respond but I continue anyway. "You know that you're probably one of the only people who call me by my stupid last name right?" He still doesn't respond, so I look back at him while I pull my head through the hole of my shirt, checking if he's listening to me. I meet his eyes when I look back and he instantly narrows them at me.

"…So?"

I edge my lips with slight irritation towards his bad temper.

"I'm saying that it feels weird"

"So what? You're telling me to start calling you Kyle?"

His quick comeback slaps me on the nose. He looks at me with a 'wouldn't that be even weirder?' look on his face, stirring my insides with slight humiliation.

"Ah, forget it!" I breathe out frustratingly, turning my back to him as I pull down my pants. I throw them in the box and pull up the new pair of short-shorts. As short and girly they look, they ironically soot me and fit me perfectly, nothing thrilling.

"What did you wake me up for anyway?" I ask half-heatedly, just to get my mind off the fact that I wasn't supplied with sweatpants like everyone else. That fact kind of pisses me off.

"Cartman called us an hour ago." He states simply, but with some bitterness hidden in his voice. "He told us to wake you up but we were too pissed off at him to obey his orders." Hearing Cartman's name fuels my bad temper and I listen to the rest of Craig's words with thorns coming out of my ears. I don't even want to hear that prick's name right now.

"What did he tell you?" is a question that automatically comes out my mouth anyway, just to keep up the conversation. It feels like it's my obligation to keep up the conversation for starting it.

"He reminded me that I was the winner of yesterday's challenge" Yesterday's challenge- the abduction game. I suddenly gain some interest in the conversation and look up to face Craig. His eyes meet mine; the ocean-blue is stable in his eyes, not flickering, but concentrating. Analysing my facial expressions, checking whether I was still damaged by yesterday's incident, and wondering if it was okay to mention it. Well, I'm not damaged and it is okay to mention it. I'm not a fucking pussy, so stop analysing me. I want to yell at him but I'm interfered half way when Craig continues his sentence. "He said that I could order anyone to do one thing."

My mouth opens automatically to say something, but I notice that I have nothing to say. I remember now. The person who wins each challenge gets to give somebody an order, huh? I completely forgot about that.

"So what then?" I ask him, placing my hands on my hips in a slightly challenging way. He twitches his eye in confusion and I sigh, dropping my hands back beside me.

"You woke me up so early in the morning to give me an order right? Fine. What is it?" the dullness in my voice was clear, clear to understand that I just wanted to get it over and done with. But Craig doesn't seem so pleased with my statement. His eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, as if he's offended by my words.

"Don't get all high and mighty Broflovski. I haven't chosen what my order is and whom it would be for. I woke you up because it's already passed nine o'clock." He says defensively. But I don't care about the tone; the words are what got to me. I swing my head around and look at the bedside clock, and sure it was way past nine. Conflicting thoughts create knots in my head. Half of me think how lucky I was to get a sleep in, while the other half is worried that I am over an hour late of getting up. Waking up at nine o'clock might not be that late on a holiday morning, but everyone seems to have gotten into this cycle that we get up at around eight, with the exception of Tweek, who gets up at about six.

"Shit." I mumble the word that pretty much summarises my thoughts. "Oh well" Too late now anyway, I'm late, but I'm up. With my new attitude, I kick my heels and walk out the room, leaving Craig for some breakfast.

Come to think of it, I didn't really hear his answer to why he woke me up. Just forget it. It wouldn't be so important anyway.

I walk into the kitchen and I'm nearly thrown back by the blazing sunlight that shines through the gigantic lounge room windows. The white windows bounce off any light, doubling its brightness. I bet this is one of the brightest places on this mountain.

"Oh, ngh, morning Kyle"

A jittery voice calls my name, stopping my thoughts on how bright the lounge room is. I barely get to mumble a "Mornin'" before he pushes a fresh cup of coffee into my hands. He always seems to keep a fresh cup handy, just in case anyone asked him for coffee, you know?

"Thanks" I manage out through my small sip. He smiles in return and returns to sipping down his own cup. After I manage to gulp down a few mouthfuls I decide to ask him a question to start up a conversation.

"So, Cartman called you guys this morning?" Tweek jolts at my question and stops sipping on his coffee, staring at it somehow longingly.

"Yeah" He says quietly, keeping his eyes on his coffee. "He talked to Craig about something- I didn't really listen- and then he reminded us about tomorrow"

"What's up tomorrow?" The light conversation I tried to make up somehow begun to turn out heavy. Tweek's sad eyes staring into his coffee builds up worry inside me and all I do is stare at him, waiting for a reply. After a couple breaths, Tweek takes his eyes off his cup and stares into my eyes.

"One of us is leaving here, tomorrow"

**ooo**

I pick up an apple from the fruit bowl and rub it on my shirt before I take a large chunk out of it. It's organic- which is why it's so goddamn small- and it's already been washed once. And there, that's my breakfast. I might have toast later, if I'm still hungry.

"That's why you're so fucking skinny dude." A lazy voice says to me. I look away from the random book I found on the bookcase and stare down at the blond. He has his arms crossed on the table and leans his chin into them, looking up at me as if I'm some kind of weird being. "Here at least eat this" He reaches into the fruit bowl and digs out another piece of fruit. I look down on it and glare at him. "Or not" He takes it away and drops it back into the bowl. As if I'm going to eat a fucking banana.

"It's kinda weird, don'tcha think?" He begins after I move my eyes back onto the book. I mumble a 'mm-hmm' but not really focus on his voice. But he continues anyway. "It's nearly been fifteen days since we got here. Tomorrow, someone's leaving us, and in another three days another one is leaving us. Two days after that and that's it! All finished." He waves his arms in the air to emphasise his words. Or I think he does. I don't look up from my book to check. I feel Tweek twitch next to me at the word 'finished' though.

"Ngh, that's why we're camping out tonight again, isn't it?" He says anxiously. His words take me by surprise and I put my book down on the kitchen counter.

"Camping?" I ask him, with an exaggerated tone of confusion. Tweek nods, or bounces his head dramatically, and Kenny waves his hand lazily in the air.

"Yeah" Kenny says simply. "We're camping out again by the lake. Didn't Craig tell you?" I shake my head in response and Kenny breathes out an 'oh'. So that's what Craig woke me up for, I suppose. It could have waited though.

And so that morning began with a heavy atmosphere. We still have six days to go yet these two act like it's all over. I guess Kenny's just tired or something, and Tweek's just being Tweek.

"Man, I'm so tired" Kenny grumbles as if he just read my thoughts. "Kevin's snoring kept me up so fucking late."

"What? Kevin's still here?" I nearly shout out.

"Nuh. He left about an hour ago. But he slept in my room last night and dude!"

"I slept in Stan's room" Tweek squeezes in between Kenny's pause.

"He snores like a mother fucking bear dude! Honestly, I feel so sorry for the girls that sleep with him, allured by his looks. After the fuck that's what they have to endure." Kenny drops his face into the counter, with his crossed arms as the pillow. I feel sorry for him, so I tap his head lightly with my book, as if to comfort him. He just groans into his arms. "Where's Craig anyway?" he grunts out.

"In the bedroom still? I think." At least that's when I saw him last. I pause for a second, and ask the same. "Where's Stan?"

"Called me?"

Before anyone could answer my question, I hear a bright voice call out from behind me. I tilt my face up to see Stan looking down on me with a smile, sort of- leaning down into my vision. His hair is wet, letting small droplets dampen his shirt. Oh, yeah. He was a morning shower person. He notices the droplets and straightens back, out of my vision to keep the droplets from dropping onto me, then gives his hair an aggressive stir with his towel. I let out a small chuckle and swing back to face him.

"Nope. Hardly mentioned you before you turned up"

He laughs out happily. He does that sometimes. Just laughs happily for no good reason, bringing everyone around him to join him, or at least I do.

"Hey Kyle," he begins, a little hesitant to cut off my laughter.

"Yeah?" I ask him through my shaky breath.

"Can I ask you a favour?" I blink at him.

"Yeah, sure dude whatever. You don't have to be so formal" I chuckle again, and he smiles warmly. "What do you want?"

He keeps his smile on his face, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he grabs my arm and pulls me off the bench stool. I let out a short 'wow' as the stool wobbles in its spot, but it just manages to keep itself from falling down.

"Stan, what's up?" I say to him, trying to keep my focus off the arm that he's holding. He looks back at me and drops his hand, letting me breathe out a sigh of relief.

"Just follow me. You'll see." He simply says, and turns back to walk out the room. I thought I saw him look back and meet his eyes with Kenny before he turned away. But by the time I look back Kenny had his face dug into his arms again. So I decide to ignore it, and follow Stan out the kitchen, and then out the house.

"Stan, where are we going?" I breathe out, trying to catch up to him. He notices my worn out breath and brings his pace down.

"You'll see." He repeats himself, and then starts walking again, now side by side with me.

We keep on walking like that for a few minutes. I notice that we are going downhill, going deeper into the forest. It's making me worry about the way back- would I be able to walk uphill for this long distance?

After a few more minutes we come to a sudden a halt. I never came to this part of the woods before so I didn't know what to expect, but when I look up ahead, I understand what is coming. In front of us, past a few tall trees, stands a small wooden hut. It's tiny, made from dump looking wood coated with moss. A chimney, that looks like it hasn't been used for at least century, pokes out from the roof. At least that is something that Cartman didn't build himself. Looking at the place, sort of makes me nervous. My heart begins to get ready for some action and sweat has already begun to ooze out of my pores.

"Umm… Stan?" I ask him hesitantly, my knees locking me on my spot.

"Hm?"

"I don't think I should be doing this" I can feel Stan freeze on his spot and then he swings around to face me. Worry makes his sapphire blue eyes one tone darker.

"Why not?"

He's worried for whether or not I would go into the hut with him. At least, that's what I think so. He thinks that he brought me all the way here for something I feel uncomfortable doing.

"Ah… because I haven't done this before and I don't think I'll be able to…" My excuses mumble out of me embarrassingly. I didn't want him to think I was a wuss, talking about it as if it was a big deal.

And then Stan moves his sapphire eyes down to the ground, with disappointment and regret. God, he really thinks that he did a bad thing. That get's me more than anything.

"Okay! Fine, I'll do it!" I burst out, not being able to take the awkward atmosphere anymore. As if it were a magic word or something, Stan's spirit suddenly rises up, forming a smile on his face. Suddenly it all feels worth it, I guess.

"But I'm warning you, this _is_ my first time." I point a finger in the air like my mum does before he goes _too_ over the moon.

"That's fine Kyle," he says warmly, "I'll help you"

**ooo**

Sweat streaks down my neck and down my chest, down my whole body, actually. It tickles madly and I can't get my hands to wipe them off, but that's the smallest of my concerns. My whole body aches, it actually hurts like a bitch. If my mind weren't so preoccupied by the pain I would be hearing my joints creaking from the thrusting and digging.

"Stan…" I moan out his name through my heavy breaths. I just can't take it anymore. "Stan…please…stop" My voice sounds like I'm pleading. God, this is so embarrassing.

"Huh?" He pauses and looks down on me. I can see through my squinting eyes that he's sweating around his neck as well. Maybe not as much as me, but his chest rises and falls deeply with the rhythm of his heavy breaths. If I weren't under this immense pain, I would have thought that it would be kinda sexy. "Why? We just started…" He breathes out heavily.

"Yeah and… I'm already… dying" I hiccough under the sudden pain that digs into me from the back. "Honestly… maybe it doesn't hurt for you but… like I told you… this is my first time… I won't make it" And I mean it. My body is beginning to shut down. I know how good it'll feel if we make it but I just can't.

"Come on Kyle, you can do it… we're almost there"

"You mean _you're_ almost there…" I mutter under my breath before another sudden shock of pain shoots up my spine. Stan stops again and look down on me, worryingly, as I continue to wince with every breath I take.

Then suddenly, I feel a hand wrap its fingers around mine, holding tightly, as if wondering whether it should help me or comfort me. The pain disappears for a brief second from the surprise contact, and we start moving. We move together. The thrusting and digging doesn't hurt anymore, and we speed up. I can feel it. We're almost there.

"Ah! Fuck!" I burst out at the top of my lungs. My yell echoes all around me, bouncing off the distant mountains as all the tension in my body releases and I collapse to the ground. My lungs are killing me, pumping ridiculously, desperately for that small amount of air that makes it through my pipes. But fuck. I'm done. I made it- _we_ made it. I let go of the hand the second I collapsed to the ground but I can still feel his eyes glued on me from above. And I don't know what's so amusing, but I hear him laugh, then collapse down beside me.

"Yeah. Fuck. It took twice the time with you than it does by myself."

"Hey screw you. I told you this was my first time. You didn't have to wait for me you know." Defending myself becomes easier as I gain back my breath. But even as I throw lukewarm insults at him, there's a small part of me that analyses the way we interact. Yeah. We have really improved since we got here, even if there are still some awkward moments between us.

"As if I could've left you. I said I'll help you, and besides," I tilt my head and meet his eyes. He nods his head lightly, indicating the luggage behind us. "I couldn't have left all those firewood in your hands to bring up alone"

I stretch my neck and look behind me, just enough so that I could see the mountain of firewood that I threw to the ground a moment earlier. Carrying those all the way from the small hut was a back-breaker. But to be honest, I'm quite proud of myself. The fact that Stan just, sort of insulted me drains out my mind. The wood digging into my back was a bitch and I bet it even scraped some of my skin off. But was it worth it?

"At least now I'm totally buff!"

"Yeah. Totally." He snorts, and I gasp dramatically as if I was offended by his words.

To say the complete truth, we haven't reached our goal yet. We still have to roll down this hill to reach the edge of the lake, which is our camping spot. But I can see it from up here, if I lift my head up. It looks like just the way he left it four days ago, and that's not a good sign. The tent's still up and ready to go, there are dirty pots and pans lying around the long-since-dead campfire. At least I had the decency to take out all the sleeping bags when we left. The tent is wide open so god knows what kinds of animals and insects would be nesting in there. It's going to take a while to clean that dump up.

"Hey Stan. Should we go now?"

I roll over onto my stomach and lean into my elbows, looking into the peaceful face of the black-haired. His eyelids lie gently over his eyes, his lips relaxed into a subtle smile, all the tension in his face has disappeared. He looks as though he's the happiest person on earth, in a peaceful way, not in an ecstatic-high-happy way. Like all his problems and worries had disappeared off the face of the earth, enjoying this moment we have now. …It is- kind of a beautiful sunny day. There are hardly any clouds, the blue sky clear with the brilliant sun shining in the middle, without being fantastically hot.

I lose myself in analysing the sky, until I feel something brush against my arm. My heart jumps into my ribs as if the small contact just electrified me. I look down and see that Stan had moved his hands behind his head as a pillow in a corny way. His hand must've brushed my arm when he moved it. Damn my sensitive heart.

Giving him one last pouty-glance, I decide to roll back onto my back and continue observing the magnificent sky. Oh how beautiful the sky was.

**ooo**

"Ow!"

"Gah!"

Tweek echoes back my cry of pain, but about three times louder.

"Tweek, can you be a little bit more gentle with the antiseptics?" I plead to him, with a more edgy tone than an appealing one.

"Ngh, sorry" He squeezes out while trying to hold his lips together guiltily. He just chuckled at my pain, bastard, and he's still smiling. But he kills his smile down and concentrates back onto the scratches of my back. That firewood really scraped my skin off. No blood though, thankfully.

I put my trust back into Tweek's hands as I hear him pour more antiseptic liquid onto a tissue. I wait with my eyes closed and shut, waiting for the liquid to burn into my scars, but hopefully, more gently this time. Bracing for the pain takes up most of my concentration, so I don't notice the pair of footsteps that approach my back.

"Argh!" He practically hits the tissue onto my scars, grinding the liquid into my broken skin. I curl up my back, my toes, fingers… practically every part of my body that has joints. I was expecting pain, but not that much.

"You're such a drama queen Ky- Broflovski"

Even before he calls my name I know who it is, because his monotone nasally voice rings in my ears more clearly than morning church bells. And the fact that Tweek won't do anything that'll deliberately hurt me leaves me with only one person who might want to see me in agonising pain- except for Cartman of course, and Kenny when he's in a weird mischievous mood, and Christophe because he wouldn't really give a shit- god I know a lot of douchebags don't I. Anyway I know it's Craig Tucker standing behind me before I turn back.

"I think Tweek had it under control asshole" I moan out to him, the pain slowly dissolving into something soothing and refreshing.

"By being time consuming?"

"Which is clearly what I wanted and asked him for."

"You're the type that peels off a bandaid one-micro-millimetre per second aren't you?"

I nearly slip from his sudden statement. So I do the same.

"Why start saying my first name, and decide to stop and say my last name?"

He immediately shuts his mouth. His half-closed eyes open up slightly in surprise. Yeah Tucker, take that- even though the sudden silence makes me feel slightly awkward. Honestly though, why won't he just call me by my first name? I'm sure it's much easier to pronounce than _Broflovski_.

"…It sounds better." He says finally, one of the most ridiculous excuses I've heard but it still breaks the silence.

"That's so not true." I sigh out, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah. So what?"

I blink. I wasn't expecting he'd reject his own excuse, even though it was utterly stupid. But he says it in an accusing, badass way, so I guess it's cool, to him.

Making some kind of a frustrated noise, I choose to ignore him and put my shirt back on. All that liquid being rubbed into my wounds would have been enough to murder and keep out all the germs forever more.

"Hey! We're done!" A friendly greeting followed by a slap in the back forces a grinding moan out of me.

"Don't do that Kenny, can't you see he's in pain?"

I look behind me, my eyes slightly watering, and I'm welcomed by Kenny's shit-eating grin digging into my face.

"Yup. I sure can see that alright" He chuckles as he leans back out of my face. Stan sighs beside him, pinching the bridge of his nose as the blond pats him on the back. I don't know whether I should glare at Kenny or thank Stan for defending me, so I end up forming this twitchy grin on my face. They both smile back at me. I hope they got the message.

"So, you've finished?" I decide to begin a conversation, just because my twitchy grin was starting to feel a bit awkward.

"Sure have Kyle. Squeaky clean, inside-out." Kenny replies cheerfully. Just to make sure he's right, I lean back and look behind them, and sure enough, I spot a ready-to-go tent. "So let's party!"

I shift my head up towards the blond in disbelief. He skilfully holds up five bottles of bright-red liquid, looking around expectantly at each of the four of us surrounding him.

"Kenny; one, that's cranberry juice; two, it's four o'clock. Not exactly time to _party_" Besides, we still need to bring up all the camping supply and food and stuff… is what I think until I spot the large mountain of food, drinks and pots and pans lying around the campfire.

"Meh" He shrugs, throwing me my bottle of cranberry juice before opening his own bottle and chugging it down.

The bottle he just threw at me lies seductively on my lap, sweating out beads of cool refreshing water. I doubt that they are enough bottles to last us for the night but… meh. Fuck it. And I flip the top off as they do in the TV commercials and chug the liquid down my throat.

**ooo**

We spend most of the evening bathing in the lake. The cranberry juice ran out about an hour after we opened our first bottles, leaving us with nothing to defend ourselves against the sadistic heat. Whoever's idea it was to bring the floatable gorilla and panda was a genius (probably Tweek, being the one secured on surface with about seven floaty rings).

The heat finally begins to cool down after the sun goes down. I have to say that I have grown to like this forest during the night. The cries of the insects create a beautiful harmony, calming and relaxing. But I won't say it aloud because those guys would definitely call it gay.

We get out of the water once it becomes completely dark, mostly because Tweek started squeaking about the shadows in the water moving and growing bigger. We don't complain though. All our fingers were all shrivelled up and pale- it's pretty nasty actually. We weren't really smart with the fact that we end up swimming in our clothes. Now we sit around the camp fire, all shivering together praying for the fire to dry our clothes as quickly as possible. But after a few minutes we remembered that we left the potatoes in the fire for way too long, leaving us with no carbohydrates for dinner.

It seems to go from one mistake to another, but it doesn't really matter. We seem to be able to laugh our guts out to all of them. Maybe it's only our conscience forcing us to enjoy, possibly the last day we have here, at least with all of us together.

"…What are you doing Kenny?" I ask the blond who sits on his rock, pulling out a sleeping bag out of its bag.

"Getting out my sleeping bag." He answers, proudly. I watch him with narrow eyes as he lays the sleeping bag on the sandy ground. It was sort of a rhetorical question, in the sense 'Once you lay that sleeping bag on the ground you know you're not going back in the tent right?' But before I can say anything to him, an excited voice interrupts me.

"Kenny! That's, ngh, awesome!"

And before I know it, the other blond scattered into the tent and brought out his own sleeping bag, laying it out on the sand and snuggling into it. Great, now if I tell him he's not going back in the tent for getting the sleeping bag dirty, I'd feel guilty, only because it's Tweek. Well, at least I have the two ravens not destroying their sleeping bags-

I nearly blow out my drink when I turn back to look at Stan and Craig. As if they were always like that, they lay around relaxingly in their sleeping bags like the two blonds: on the ground.

"Aren't you gonna get your sleeping bag Kyle?" Stan asks me innocently. Craig stays emotionless, but I know that he can tell how I'm feeling. Frustrated and irritated at everyone insensibly getting their sleeping bags dirty, yet at the same time, feeling a little left out and confused because of Stan's words.

"…I will." Yeah, fuck it. So I get my own sleeping bag and cuddle into it like everyone else. We're all cozed-up in our sleeping bags around the campfire like a large 'O'. But suddenly, now everything begins to feel a little depressing, and the feeling seems to transmit onto everyone else. It's become suddenly quiet, with only the fire crackling quietly in the centre. It is a bit calming though. But the quiet doesn't seem to suit everybody.

"Hey, you guys wanna hear a joke?" Kenny asks cheerfully, expecting that everyone would think it's a splendid idea. The fire crackling must have given him some idea.

"No." We all harmonise.

"Okay. So," He begins anyway, despite everyone's groans. "Give a man a fish, he eats for a day. Teach a man to fish, he eats for a lifetime. Give a man a fire, he's warm for a day. Set a man on fire, he's warm for the rest of his life." He ends with his arms out wide, waiting for a roar of laughter. But it's not funny. I mean it, it's not funny. But damn it-

We all burst into laughter, not exactly laughing at the joke, more at how pathetic the proud smirk on Kenny's face is. Laughing, just for the sake of it. I can even hear Craig's low chuckles in the distance, somehow echoing more loudly than the others.

"Kenny- you really suck!" I manage out in between my bursts.

"I blow too" He replies with a wink.

The slightly depressing feeling had completely dissolved into our hysterical laughter. But we know that when we stop laughing, that slightly depressing feeling would come back. So we laugh as long as our lungs would let us, so we don't have to end what will be the last night for the one of us with a damp atmosphere. We would laugh until we can't take it any more and collapse on our spot into a deep sleep.

Because there's only five days left, and we can't afford to spend any moment without enjoying ourselves.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- Mm-hmm that sucked… eep. But I promise the next chapter'll be better. Well, I haven't written it yet, but it won't be such an empty chapter like this one. More Stan and Kyle! If it goes accordingly to plan. My plan has gone on a long term vacation to Siberia and I don't think it'll ever come back. But I have the ending checked in and it shouldn't be so far away.<strong>

**But most of all, thank you so much for your reviews! I have been a lousy replier, but I love them all so much. They are what motivate me, so please keep them coming!**

**Hopefully not so long 'til the next chapter! And probably no more stupid, filler, empty chapters like this one. I'm on a roll to the end! **


	16. Chapter 16

**A.N- Thank you and thanks for all the reviews! Love, love, love!**

**Okay, so I lied about a couple of things. Firstly, very slow update. But all of my exams are done! Finished for this year! And I probably won't have any homework until the summer holidays start. Yay!**

**Secondly, I was gonna have more Stan in this, but he had to wait. I just had to write more about Tweek since there was hardly any of him so far.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

><p>We all enter the house in a heavy silence. No one opens their mouth, not even Kenny; it's as if we weren't permitted to talk. We practically laughed ourselves to sleep last night, but when we woke up, it was as if we had used up all our energy and happiness. Our minds were blank and hollow, tired and heavy. And it still feels that way.<p>

Even the weather seems to be on the down side today. The clear blue sky that was shining above us yesterday is now nowhere to be seen: it is all blocked out by dark heavy clouds. The dim sky might be playing a part on the damp atmosphere today. No one likes dark cloudy weather, except for maybe Tweek. He says he likes heavy clouds. Says that they make him feel contained and safe, like the world is a smaller place and there's less to be worried about. I can sort of understand what he is talking about.

When the sky is clear and open, it reminds me that there is another world up there, and I'm only a small dust in the universe. I guess he doesn't like that. Feeling so small and vulnerable under the open sky. But I like it, the whole wide clear sky and all. It has the sense of unlimited opportunity and chance. But today isn't like that. All dark, gloomy and contained; it's almost a miracle that it hasn't rained yet. We would have been in big trouble if it rained a few hours ago.

After we all fell asleep in our sleeping bags yesterday around the campfire we didn't wake up until morning. Not even to move back into the tent and sleep there.

Without the sun it was pretty cold, and we all woke up to the sound of our own sneezes. We quickly made some hot chocolate on the small dying fire (we really should've put out the fire before we fell asleep) and that was pretty much our breakfast. The fire went out soon after that and we found some of the remains of yesterday's burnt potatoes and melted marshmallows, or, whatever they had formed into.

We seemed to come to some silent agreement to pack up the whole camping area. Quietly, with the minimal amount of conversations with each other, we cleaned out the pots and pans in the lake, rolled up our dirty sleeping bags, picked up all the rubbish and took down our unused squeaky-clean ready-to-go tent. Taking the tent down and putting it away wasn't a one-man job, so we all worked on it together. The place was spotless when we left.

"Welcome back contestants" A sluggish voice welcomes us as we enter the lounge room. His words sound like they are leaking out of a fat grin, and as expected, Cartman stands there in the middle of the lounge room, a whale-like smirk shaking the fat around his cheeks. "Aw, why the long faces?" he mimics sympathy with his grin, which widens an extra inch to the sides. Not a single one of us is in the mood to deal with the fat piece of shit, so we keep our silence and glare daggers into him. But Cartman seems to enjoy it. Our bad temper and glares would be like deep-fried sugar to him. He even interprets our silence as a sign of resignation towards his authority. That's disgusting; the idea boils the acid in my stomach.

"Why the fuck are you here fatass"

I can't take it. The idea of him thinking that he had power over us is humiliating. But what came out my mouth was too obvious and stupid. And it humiliates me even more when Cartman's grin widens further- as if that's possible.

"You should know Kyle, why I'm here. Or did you forget how to count days, hmm?"

"Shut the fuck up Cartman, I know why you're here! It was a rhetorical question you fat fuck!" My voice sounds like it is ripping my throat, airy and desperate. All my frustration, anger, even fear that was stirring my heart since the day before yesterday are beginning to boil inside me all over again. Looking at his face, hearing his voice, feeling his presence is crushing down the balance of my mind and all I want to do is rip the layers of fat off him one by one. It's sickening. And the negative atmosphere we had all morning seems to be exaggerating my hatred towards the fatass.

The only response I get from the bastard is a twitch in his eye and lips; everything else stays calm, even after I called him a fat fuck. My chest rises and falls rapidly; I'm really out of breath from the sudden stress and frustration that has overcome me. _Shit_- the blood is pumping through my head like crazy, it even makes me feel dizzy. I have to calm down- _calm down Kyle_…

My mind blocks itself out from the real world, focusing on calming down. But then a strong shock, like electricity, shoots through my body and brings me back into the real world. I fling my eyes open with a swift sigh as I come back to conscious. Warmth flows into my body from my shoulder and I notice that there's a hand resting there, which is probably what shot that shock through my body. It rests there as if to comfort me, and I can feel the strings inside me stop tangling itself into knots. But as my mind comes back to reality, I also notice another thing. My vision is slightly darker.

"You heard him asshole. Hurry up and get it over with"

I automatically look up at the voice. And there, blocking my view of the fatass is Craig's back. There's a slight edginess hiding in his monotone voice and I can't help but think that he's more than just frustrated at Cartman's presence. He's angry. I forget that I'm staring at the guy's back blankly, until he gives me a quick glance and I accidently meet his eyes. My heart jumps in its spot and I feel myself bounce against the hand secured on my shoulder. The hand seems to notice my small jolt and the fingers slightly curl into my shirt, unconsciously strengthening its grip around my shoulder.

"He's right Cartman. We're not in the mood." A calm voice says from behind me. And with that, I know whose hand is resting on my shoulder, comforting me. Stan. It feels weird being defended by the two ravens. The pits of my stomach feel a little itchy. Maybe it's from embarrassment, or frustration, coming from my stubborn feelings that I don't need to be defended by two six-footers. Or maybe it's from the pure gratefulness and awkward feelings towards the two's consideration. Either way, that doesn't matter. Thanks to these two I have calmed down quite a lot.

I take one last deep breath to refresh myself, and give Cartman a firm cold glare. He notices it immediately, and funnily, his stupid smirk that wouldn't rub off his face no matter what I called him or how loud I shouted at him, instantly drops into an unamused pout. He can sense my confidence and he doesn't like it, and that makes me feel much better. But right now, my first priority is for him to get this over and done with.

"Come on fatty" I give him the one last push, and bingo, he reacts splendidly to it.

"Goddamn it Kyle! Don't call me fat!" He shakes in fury, looking over Craig's shoulder and down onto me. But I wave his yell off with a smirk. Craig seems to be satisfied with the atmosphere and moves out from in-between Cartman and me. Great. Now I have a perfect view of the fat pig. I shrug at my own sarcastic thought as Craig parks himself next to me. …It feels better to have someone beside you than in front of you.

Cartman shakes there in anger for another second or so before taking a frustrated breath, finally beginning what he came here to do.

"Fine then, if that's what you want! Let's just say the loser's name and get it over and done with!" He says and takes out an envelope from his pocket. My heart jolts suddenly at the realisation. In that envelope is the name of the person going home today. My pulse begins to speed up and I can honestly say that I'm nervous. But Cartman opens his mouth before I can get mentally prepared for the answer. "The person going home today is… Tweek Tweak." He finishes boringly.

"Gah!"

We all look back at the sudden burst, me a little more hesitantly. I don't know what I expect on Tweek's face when I look back. Shock? Sadness? Disappointment? But when I do look around to face the blond, all my expectations are betrayed. Because what I see on Tweek's face isn't shock, sadness, disappointment or any of those things. _Relief, _that's what I see. The tension has drained out from every muscle in his body. His shoulders are dropped down (not in a negative way but in a relaxed way), his lips parted and his eyes wide, like he's just been woken up from a long dream, all refreshed. But that confuses me. I don't know what to feel. But an aggressive sigh brings me out of my thoughts and I automatically move my eyes away from Tweek and back onto Cartman.

"So you guys know the plot" He begins. But the words hardly process as sentences in my brain. "One guy leaves," he indicates Tweek, "and the rest of you will have room changes. I want you all to send in your requests by the end of the day. There won't be any highest points this week because Craig won the special challenge, making him the automatic winner of this round." He looks up from his small fingernails he was examining and lands his boring gaze on the blond behind me. "Tweek, there's a car waiting at front. Go pack now and go home"

His sadistic motivation seemed to have burnt down for today. He lazily waves his hand in the air dismissively and walks out of the room, shoving me in the shoulder as he does. But I don't really acknowledge it. Being shoved in the shoulder by a walking pig is the least of my concerns.

My eyes are fixed back on Tweek. He seems to find it uncomfortable, being stared at, I mean. He fidgets awkwardly under my pressuring gaze, but then with a huge amount of effort, he twitches up a smile. It's a complete failure, but an attempt of a smile non-the less.

"Ngh, dude, I better go pack up my- stuff" is all he says before scattering out of the room.

I blankly stare at the spot Tweek was just standing for a few seconds. We have been best friends for a couple of years now, but it's still hard for me to understand what he's thinking sometimes. Now is one of those times, and I feel bad about it. Not bad as in irritated that I can't understand what he's saying, nothing like that. I just feel guilty that he's my best friend, and I can't read his mind like best friends are meant to. I mean, that's what best friends do, right? Read each other like a book? But I still want to know what he's thinking, so I run out the lounge room and make my way to his room.

I forget to knock before entering Tweek's room. But it was already half open so I guess it wasn't necessary. Tweek's room is always either extremely neat and tidy, or a complete pigsty. Right now, it's more of a pigsty. His clothes cover nearly every inch of the floor and the small amount of personal belongings he has are spread all over his bed. Tweek sits in the middle of the room, cross-legged and shoulders slumped. Beside him is his one bag he brought here, which he wasn't allowed to use. None of us were allowed to use our bags or anything we brought here. The blond doesn't notice me as I enter the room and stand behind him. He just sits there, slowly folding his clothes and placing them in his bag, one after the other like a robot. I suddenly feel uneasy calling his name, so I decide to clear my throat uncomfortably instead.

"Argh! Oh… Hey Kyle" He says as he spins around to face me. "Man, don't scare me like that!" I shrug at him in response, and he turns around again and continues folding his clothes. "Cartman said that we could keep the clothes we used here. I like them. They're pretty comfortable." He tilts his head and shows me a weak smile. This is not what I came for. Watching him fold up his clothes like some kind of systematic machine.

"Hey, Tweek?" I finally manage out.

"Mm-ngh-hmm?" He responds, but still keeps his back on me. So I walk up to him and place myself beside the working robot.

"Are you okay?" I feel slightly stirred with how hesitant I sound. It would have been much better if I could just sound casual and at ease. But to my surprise, he chuckles and stops his motion of repeated folding and packing of his clothes.

"About what?" He asks with a small twitch. So I answer him. My eyes avoiding his, staring down at his hands that have stopped working for the time being.

"About going home." My voice is quiet, and even more hesitant than before. But again, he chuckles. And I feel my heart jump at the weak sound.

"Mmgh… Yeah, I'm okay with it" He says. Not so much as an out-burst, but making strange noises has become a habit of his. I unconsciously stare into his face, waiting for a more detailed response. He notices my stare before I do, and smiles warmly, in a way that makes me feel like a three year old. Embarrassed. I quickly look away from him and as I do, he gives me a more detailed answer that I was apparently so eager to hear, according to his face.

"It's not like I want to leave here," He moves his gaze back onto his hands and begins folding his clothes again. "I mean, it's gonna suck leaving you guys here. It was so fun"

And then it comes to me, another wave of guilt. During the time here my mind was so preoccupied with my own problems that I hardly though about Tweek. Despite living in the same house for fifteen days we hardly hanged out together. Maybe we had the occasional walks in the woods and all the group games but that was about it.

"Sorry Tweek…" My mouth automatically spills out. He spins his head towards me and shows me his eyes filled with sudden confusion and worry. "For leaving you alone while we were here" I mumble. The atmosphere suddenly freezes for a second, but then pops with Tweek's high laughter. Not a small chuckle like before, but an actual cackle that scrapes through his throat.

"Don't apologise Kyle!" He roars. "And don't, hck, underestimate me-" at that statement, my heart stiffens, and my whole body stays frozen as Tweek's laughter slowly dies down into a cool silence. The atmosphere feels heavy and a little prickly as I wait for Tweek to continue. He blankly stares into the air for a second and lets out a relaxing breath before continuing.

"Kyle, you're caring. It's in your nature to take care of people whether you, urgh, like it or not. Maybe it's because you have a smaller sibling who is, mature, but, ngh, kinda crazy"

The last word comes out as a mumble, but I can't help but glance over at one of the cameras anxiously. I bet my crazy little sibling heard that. I quickly turn my eyes back to Tweek so he doesn't sense my worry. He purses his lips together and rolls them around nervously before saying something I'm not expecting: "-But I'm not your little brother"

I hear my heart thump in my chest. The blond senses my surprise and brings his fallen gaze back up to face mine.

"I… keep on jumping with small noises, a fallen leaf could make me gasp, but I'm not that, um, pathetic."

"Tweek I don't think you're pathetic…" I defend, but he interrupts me with a fierce nod, followed by a smile.

"Yeah, ngh, I know you don't Kyle. I'm just saying that- I can do some things for myself. Like, reducing the amount of coffee I drink a day or meditating and calming myself down."

I can't help but frown at his words. I never noticed but it sounds like I've been treating him like a three-year-old. I know that he can do stuff by himself but there has always been a part of me that thought that I had to look after him.

"I've been _too much pressure_, huh?" I say weakly, with a shaky chuckle.

"Just a little" He answers with a warm smile. And with that he goes back to folding up his clothes and placing them in the back. Once he runs out of clothes to fold around him, he crawls to another spot in the room with clothes tossed on the floor. I just sit there and watch his back as he crawls around. The option to help him pack pops up in my head but then blocked when Tweek says something.

"What?"

He had finished packing most of his clothes and began packing his possessions that are spread out on his bed.

"I said that I'm gonna cheer for you, after I get out. Ngh, my tooth paste's gone" He throws the toothpaste in the bedside rubbish bin and then gives me an anxious look. "Don't laugh, okay?"

I look at him puzzlingly, and nod. He lets out a small sigh and continues.

"I think everyone came here for different reasons, er, apart from just having fun. I mean, I came here to train my self, kinda, socially. Gaining some independence, you know? And I think I achieved that, at least a little. I did what I came here for" He seems to have finished packing his bag. After zipping his bag up, he slides onto the floor, sitting down against the bed, looking at me. "But you haven't"

"Huh?" I bat my eyes a couple times in confusion. He twitches nervously, looking around wondering whether he had the right to say what he just said. He finally ends his eyes on me and repeats.

"You haven't done what you came for"

I wasn't expecting that. My mind freezes for a second and then my face begins to heat up with embarrassment. I never told him exactly why I came here, but if he knows… God, was I that obvious?

"What do you mean?" Play dumb. My mouth automatically does it without thinking. But what does he mean about not doing what I came for? I thought my friendship with Stan was improving. I'm well on my way of doing what I came here for.

"Kyle," He calls my name and I immediately jump out of my thoughts. "You are nervous, confused, blind, lost, agitated, and ergh, changing." He flies through with words and end with a hiccough, so I don't catch any of them.

"Huh?"

"Gah! I'm sorry! I'm not like, analysing you like a stalker or anything! I'm not a stalker!" He shrieks and throws his hands up in the air, surrendering himself to me. Saying his opinion might have been too much pressure for him. I think it pushed one of his nervous buttons. I simply blink at him, and then he slowly calms down. "I'm just saying that- this might be a bit presumptuous of me for saying this but-" He stumbles for words, his pupils flies around in his eyes nervously. It's kind of amusing. And then his eyes stop, and I can see that he has found his words.

"I'm just saying that, you haven't finished what you came for yet and, I'm glad I'm going today instead of you, or any of the other guys who have a bigger chance helping you than I do. If you know what I mean."

I shake my head, because I don't really know what he means. Tweek just shrugs at this, with a smile, and stands up.

"Agh- well, so I, hgh, I should go now" He picks up his bag with a bouncy nod and I stand up beside him.

I remember what he just said a couple of minutes ago and can't help but make a small pout. As if I could think of this dude as my small brother. He's about three inches taller than me.

"Jerk"

"Gah!"

"Let's go"

Thinking about height prickles my nerves slightly, so the word half dropped out of me. But I won't apologise for it. Instead, I wrap my arm around his shoulder and pull him towards the door. When I shut the door behind us it slams louder than I imagined. But Tweek doesn't let out a massive shriek like I imagined him to.

ooo

"Well, you guys took your time" We're welcomed outside with Kenny's mocking voice. "Did you guys have a nice goodbye-kiss before you came out?"

I ignore Tweek's shriek and slap the poor bastard on the head. I don't know if he was trying to lighten up the atmosphere by making a lame-ass joke, but it was totally uncalled for. Apparently the two ravens standing on either side of Kenny agree with me. They both follow my suit and slap the back of the blond head in silence. Team work, maybe.

Behind the three contestants waiting patiently, is a shiny black Mercedes. As glamorous and beautiful it might look, I can't help but glare all my hatred into it. It is honestly becoming one of my least favourite cars. And as if answering my thoughts, the black machine cries out two loud honks that make all five of us jump, Tweek, with a little more enthusiasm.

"Ngh, I, hck- guess that's my cue to leave…" he says quietly after his heart evened down. He lifts the strap of his bag on his shoulder as they do in the movies, a small final gesture before giving me one final glance and walking towards the car. My mouth hangs half open but he doesn't even wait for me to say anything.

But as I watch him walk towards the black shiny car in silence, for once I can tell what he thinks. Maybe it's because of that one last glance he gave me, or maybe it's because of the long conversation we had while packing. Either way, it doesn't matter. I shut my wondering mouth and my lips naturally form into a smile.

We don't need words; _he_ doesn't need any. No more words of apologies or sympathy; not even a gooey goodbye. But I can't help myself from shooting my arm into the air and wave it frantically.

"Hey Tweek! Watch me!" I call out to his back.

He pauses with his fingers on the door handle and turns back to face me.

"Why would you need me? Ngh-" I don't know if it's from all the shrieking, but he has a good loud voice. "You already have the rest of the world watching you!"

Him and his exaggerations, jeez.

"I don't know! Just watch!" Because I would finish whatever he said that I haven't finished.

I think he understands what I mean, though. He hooks his fingers back onto the door handle and swings the car door open and slides into it. I don't expect him to do something as risky as leaning his arm out of the window to wave goodbye, but to my surprise, opening the window and shooting his arm out of it is the first thing he does. He waves it energetically at the rest of us remaining, as if wishing us luck. But he ducks his hand back into the vehicle before any trees could tear it off. I barely get a chance to wave back. But I think he caught a glimpse of my arm shooting into the air again before the car disappeared into the deep woods.

ooo

Five more days… Suddenly that seems to be more realistic than it did five minutes ago. Tweek's gone and now it's only me, Kenny Stan and Craig. Not the most joyful people to be around at this point of time. Kenny's the usual perverted bastard he always is. There's some kind of invisible awkward wall between Stan and I that doesn't seem to want to disappear. And Craig is just- I don't know…_Craig_.

I know that I shouldn't be thinking this way, especially after my conversation with Tweek but… Honestly, I'm just tired. I don't even want to think about what I have to do. There is _one_ thing I have to do though: choose my new roommate for the next few days.

Choosing a roommate at this point of time is in between unbelievably easy, and so fucking hard. If I had to choose between those three it means that I have a choice between: the least awkward one, going with my gut feeling, and finishing what I came here for. As difficult as that might sound, there is one last final consideration that evens out my whole choice: the probability of Cartman actually considering my preference, which is close to nil. And that is what makes the whole thing unbelievably easy. If Cartman is not going to listen to my preferences than there's no meaning choosing someone in the first place.

"Yeah. Fuck it."

"Fuck what?"

"Me?"

Goddamn it, I forgot these guys were still around me. Forgetting that we're all sitting in the same lounge room proves my numbed brain

"Kenny, you do know your perverted jokes are getting old, right?" I narrow my eyes at him.

He clenches his chin in a considering way before finally saying: "Nope. I don't think they are, and never will" This guy is hopeless.

I ignore the poor blond and turn my head back to Stan who's sitting with me on the white leather couch. He looks at me with round, confused eyes. I should have ignored Kenny and answered Stan to begin with.

"I'm not gonna send in a preference for my roommate" And I jump off the couch and walk away, ignoring Stan's surprised and questionable look.

"What? Why?" He calls after me. But even for Stan, I'm not really in the mood to explain. I grab the kettle and turn the water tap on full blast to act as though I couldn't hear him. But to my surprise, he jumps off the couch and walks up to me. I keep my gaze on the water filling up the kettle; he drags his gaze on it too.

He doesn't seem to want to say anything, at least until the kettle fills up. And it fills up too quickly for my liking.

"There's enough water for everyone" I say, in hope that he becomes satisfied with an offer of a cup of coffee and forgets what he came for. He bobs his head in a nod but stays silent. We both watch the kettle as it slowly releases fume out of its snout, which Stan seems to find relaxing.

"So…" He begins, trying to sound casual. "Why aren't you sending in your preference?"

I'm half taken off guard by his behaviour. I wouldn't have thought that me not sending in a preference would be such a big deal to Stan, if it meant anything. So I give up. Loosen the tension in my shoulders and look back at him. As I do, the other two in the lounge room catch my eye. Kenny is leaning over the back of the couch and looking at us excitingly; his tail would be wagging in the air if he were a dog. Craig just looks through the corner of his eye in a way that is hard to tell if he does or doesn't give a shit about what we're talking about. But in that small second that I meet his eye, I suddenly feel that telling Stan about my preference isn't a big deal. Hell, why did I even feel like it was any deal to begin with?

"I'm not sending in a preference because it's useless"

"Huh?"

The kettle screams that the water is boiled, so I take it off and pour the water evenly into the four mugs waiting, the coffee dyeing the water into a deep black. I can feel Stan's confused gaze on the side of my face as I do.

"I mean that," I swing my head towards him, looking up into his eyes. "Cartman didn't listen to my preferences before and I doubt that he'll listen to me now. And besides..." I drag my gaze back down onto the four cups and feel Stan relax as I release him from my gaze. I notice what I was going to say and regret opening my mouth. But I already began saying it so I can't back down.

"…I won't be able to choose anyway"

Before Stan can say anything I push one of the mugs into his hand and walk out of the kitchen. Boy, did I just sound like a complete pussy.

I realise when I walk out the front door and drop myself onto the doorsteps that I've forgotten my mug. But I can't gather up the want to go get it. It would be pretty embarrassing, walking back in after saying something sissy, just because I forgot to grab my cup of coffee.

But sitting out here, I can probably do with that warm cup. The clouds in the sky are getting darker and heavier, and not in a warm humid way. It seems to be sucking up all the warmness of the earth and getting ready for some rain. The cool wind shivers me up, and I let out a loud sneeze.

"You're gonna catch a cold if you stay out here" A voice says to me in response to my sneeze.

I tilt my head up and find Stan staring down on me with a gaze that is warm enough to get rid of all the cold air. And as if that wasn't enough to warm me up, he hands me the cup of coffee that I forgot in the kitchen.

"Thanks…" I mumble while trying to hug the mug as strong as possible without burning myself. That must have been a sign of permission for Stan to sit down. But I can help but suspect him as he places himself next to me. _He's come here for more information_… It's a bad habit of mine. I mean, honestly. I should really start thinking positively. Like, maybe he had come here to keep me company under the dim weather, or maybe he felt bad for making me say something I wasn't over the moon about saying.

"Do you want to go back inside?" I offer to him. The dark clouds above us are getting darker and heavier by the minute and our shadows have completely disappeared. The clouds are definitely desperate to take a leak and it seems like it's going to pour with rain any minute. Even the warm cup of coffee won't be much defence against the rain, if any at all. I nibble the rim of the mug with my lips and take a glimpse at Stan. He stares at the clouds with round eyes, examining the dark fluff with interest and amusement. The quiet atmosphere mixed with the menacing threat of a heavy thunderstorm must be somehow relaxing and fulfilling to Stan.

"…Nuh" He finally murmurs out. And before I know it, I find myself caught in his gaze. "Let's stay here for a bit. Until we finish our coffee" A smile flows across his lips, and suddenly, the dim light, dark clouds and heavy atmosphere seems not so bad anymore. The feeling of a storm coming is almost calm and relaxing, and I wonder why it didn't feel that way before.

I must admit that I'm not the best at making coffee. I always end up putting in too much coffee or not enough. That is why I always indulge myself with Tweek's cup instead of making my own. But right now, keeping myself warm is my first preference, so the plain bitter taste burning my throat doesn't really bother me. I hope the taste doesn't bother Stan, or the other two inside, either. I bet Kenny wouldn't mind; just having some sort of flavour in hot water would be enough for him. I guess the main person I'm concerned about is that black-haired asshole Craig Tucker. After fifteen days of Tweek's top quality coffee, my watery black liquid would be perfect for him to rip me on.

"Hey Kyle?"

A quiet voice kicks me out of my thoughts and I swing my head around to face Stan. His cup is already empty and I'm reminded that mine isn't even half way through. I quickly rush down a few gulps, trying to catch up to his fast drinking. Maybe he wants to go back inside since he has finished his drink.

"Mm-hmm?" I mumble through my teeth clenched onto the rims of the cup, trying to scurry down the liquid as quickly as possible.

He fidgets with his mug a little nervously, which catches my attention. I pause my drinking for a second and listen to him contently. I don't know if my gaze helps him, but he stops fidgeting with his mug and opens his mouth for words.

"You know, if you don't know who to put down as your roommate you could always put my name down-" He lifts his eyes up until they land on mine, but he quickly drops them back onto his mug. "Only if you want, that is…" He adds on remorsefully.

His words take me off guard. He had asked me before if I wanted to be roommates with him, but that was ages ago, and it ended up with me being with Craig. Whether it was because Cartman didn't listen to our preferences, or it was because Stan didn't put my name down in the end is something I still don't know. I guess maybe it's my chance to find out.

"You remember last time we said that we'd write each other's name down?" I ask him. He answers me with a puzzled look, which slowly relaxes in remembrance, so I go on. "I put your name down. Why didn't you?" I try not to sound accusing, because I'm not accusing him in any way. And my voice comes out nice and evenly, much more than Stan's slightly nervous tone at least.

Why does he have to be so nervous about asking me anyway? But I guess he has the right to be nervous. In the end, there is still that awkward wall that stands between us. His attitude just reminds me of that fact and I can't help but feel slightly disappointed in myself. I thought I was doing quite well. Keeping my voice even, holding my pulse in tact. I have even been able to hide my feelings deep down somewhere where no one, including myself, could reach. But I guess I wasn't doing as well as I thought as I was. Maybe there's some sort of awkward atmosphere that's leaking out of me and infecting Stan.

"Huh?"

I'm brought out of my thoughts by Stan's voice. My eyes quickly adjust my vision onto Stan, who seems to be staring at me; eyes round like a mouse's. But many things seem to be flying around in his mind, reflecting onto his face like a projector. First his eyes are round in confusion, then he squints them as if remembering something, jolting around in their sockets as different memories comes to past, then stops dead on a certain memory that shouts _bingo_! And lastly, his eyes drop to the ground heavily, like he was just found guilty for something he had done years ago that he couldn't ever forgive himself for.

"Oh yeah" His voice moulds into his breath as they come out of his mouth. I immediately know by the tone of his voice that I had read his facial expressions correctly. It is regret. But he manages to continue while looking me in the eyes: "Remember how I got that phone call? Like, while I was making dinner or something?"

I swiftly go through my memories in my head until I finally land on the correct one: a phone call from ten days ago, which sucked up his happiness (at the time) and replaced it with frustration and anger. As soon as the memory stops playing, I give a heavy nod, half interested, half confused about its significance.

"It was from Cartman."

I tense at the words he says with a calm voice. My brain freezes it's thoughts until it slowly melts into a flaming anger. Whatever the phone call was about, if it was from Cartman then it couldn't have been good news. He would have threatened him, mocked him or crushed him down from under his feet with whatever he said. But as I sit here, thousands of ideas of what Cartman's call was about rushing through my head, fuming me up, Stan just simply sits calmly. He looks at me with an almost impressed gaze, which slowly melts into a warm smile. And it shuts my anger in a closet deep inside me instantly, letting him continue in peace.

"It was a call to tell me that I couldn't be with you for that week- as roommates" He quickly adds on. "So I gave up for that week on being with you. Besides, I thought there would be the next week anyway."

My heart jumps at that. I remember whose name I put on the next week and it definitely wasn't Stan's. I mean, I didn't think I would get my preference. But I guess that resulted in us not becoming roommates. I think my thoughts now are clearly showing my face for the world, or for Stan, to see. His warm smile has become a more understanding colour. But I think Stan already knew this and that is why he came to talk to me about our roommate preferences. So we could be together. The idea makes my face light up. If what I was thinking was right, then that means that Stan wants to build back up our friendship as much as I do. Even if we haven't progressed as much as I hoped, that is an encouraging thought.

"So, do you want to-" Stan's warm smile breaks to say something, but he is interfered by a large _whack! _that crushes into the back of his head.

"Oh. My bad Marsh; didn't know you were there." An emotionless voice states from behind the wooden door that just smashed into Stan's head.

I would have yelled at the voice to fuck off, but Stan's painful moans mixed with frustration catches my attention, and the deep ocean blue eyes that slip out from behind the door keeps the words frozen in my mouth. And before my mouth even gets back its ability to speak, a firm hand wraps around my wrist and swings me up into the air.

The force that pulls my mouth out of shock and I can finally shout: "Hey! What the fuck Craig?" But by the time I say it, he's pulling me back into the house, leaving Stan on the porch with a swollen head. I give him one last glance above my shoulder.

He's rubbing the back of his head, struggling to lift his face. But he does, lightly hissing through his teeth. And his eyes meet mine, telling me what the slam had interfered him with.

"_Do you want to be roommates with me?" _

Then the aggressive wind slams the door back shut, letting my mind bring its concentration back onto the grip around my wrist.

"What the hell are you doing?" I say, with a voice frustrated and irritated, but slightly calmed down.

"I need you to find the sugar. The coffee you made tastes like you just scooped up watery mud into a mug." He says, which earns a sarcastic snort out of me.

"Thought you'd never guess"

I flap my hand around to break myself free, but it only causes him to squeeze even harder. It's no use; so I just follow him in silence. I feel somehow pleased with myself that I guessed right on Craig's reaction towards my coffee.

ooo

I shuffle my preference card around my fingers skilfully as Cartman stands there with his big fat tummy wobbling with each of his frustrated breaths going in and out of his lungs. The smirk on his face he had there a second ago vanished with impatience. But I still stand here with my fingers doing the shuffling with the card until he finally bursts out: "Well hurry up and give it Jew!" He pauses. "Please"

My win. I give him my card as if his manners weren't such a big deal, which it is. I'm just happy that I was able to break his patience up to the point that it made him say _please_. And that's a good enough revenge for now- revenge for him being an asshole.

He kicks his heals and marches out of the lounge room, the kitchen, and out of the house with a loud tumble. When I hear the front door flam shut, I just unleash a roar of laughter. Kenny snorts with, or at me, and Craig just raises his eyebrows slightly. But that doesn't quiet down my laughter. What does, is another gaze fixed on me. Not a gaze of amusement or confusion or even surprise. It is a gaze that I've been feeling occasionally for the past ten hours, ever since that talk on the porch before the rain started to pour down. And the gaze has been on me for the last ten minutes, ever since Cartman had round us up for our roommate preferences. It's a gaze of worry and slight hope.

I didn't answer Stan's question in the end. But when Cartman turns the television screen on in a few hours time to show us our roommates, he would know whether I wanted to be roommates with him or not. But there's always a chance that Cartman won't listen to my preference, especially after my attitude towards him. Maybe deep down, there's a part of me that doesn't know if I had put down the right name, and hopes that Cartman would just choose my roommate for me.

My laughter completely dies down and I feel another gaze on me. Is that what I get for cackling spontaneously? Or is the cool gaze because of something else?

But I've already made up my mind. Even if Cartman doesn't consider my preference, I guess my first priority now is to finish what I came here for.

So in the end, whatever the gaze is doesn't matter, right?

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><p><strong>A.N- How was that? A little too lengthy? My writing a bit crumby, whatever that means? Please review, and I will love and write more. <strong>

**Thanks for reading!**

…**btw, I just finished **_**The Body**_** and **_**Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption**_** by Stephen King. I thought I was gonna explode from awesome overdose. I'm not much of a reader but now I'm totally into it. I watched both the movies too yesterday and today. Anyway, see ya next chapter… probably. **


	17. Chapter 17

**A.N- Thank you awesome people for reading and reviewing! I am now in summer holidays and so it may be a beginning of faster updates. My goal is to finish this story before I go to Japan in… less than two weeks so I don't have that long. **

**This is not a short chapter; the last one was just very long. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p>He looks at the screen disbelievingly, eyes round and lips parted as if the time around him had just stopped. Looking at him, I can't help but droop an encouraging smile all over my face, then finally crack into laughter.<p>

"You actually didn't believe I would put you down as my preference did you?" I say through my jumpy chuckling. He turns his head towards me, his expression unchanging, which fuses my laughter once more.

"No, I didn't actually" He says, sincerely. The honesty in his voice pulls me back a bit, I mean, why wouldn't I put his name down? I move my eyes back to the television screen stuck to the wall and let my eyes suck in the names again as my laughter begins to drift away.

_Stan and Kyle. Kenny and Craig._

My lips unconsciously roll themselves together as I stare at the screen. When I take my eyes off the screen, I notice that Stan is still looking at me.

"What?"

"No, it's err… um-"

I tried not to say _what_ in a rude way, but it seems to have startle him nonetheless. It's like he just jumped out of his personal time freeze and is now having trouble adjusting to the present time.

"So- do you want to come to my room or should I come to yours?" He says, once he gets his voice back. I don't know if he really wanted to ask me that or if the words just stumbled out of him, but checking the time and all, I'm tired and I guess it's a good time to go to bed.

"I don't know. I should probably ask Craig, but I'll probably go to yours-" I swing my head around as I answer Stan, but my aim is nowhere to be found. "Where _is_ he?"

"Craig just went back to his- your- bedroom to pack up and move into my room" Kenny answers, pointing his thumb in the direction of the corridor.

"Already?"

He nods, letting his blond strands brush against his eyelashes with the motion.

I roll my eyes at Craig's fast reaction and dry attitude towards roommate changing. I'm also slightly impressed though.

"I'm gonna go pack my stuff too then." I tell Stan. "It would be easier if I just go to your room, right?"

He nods. And I give him a stiff smile in return before rushing out of the room.

Of course I don't knock on the door before going in. It's my room, well, until I move into Stan's at least. But there is a small part of me that wonders my hand around the doorknob hesitantly before finally turning open.

The creaking sound of the door pushing inside somehow sounds three times louder than it usually does, but Craig doesn't even twitch at the sound. He simply stands there, leaning over his bed as he rolls up his clothes and throws them into his box.

"So, after hearing the results of our roommates it's just immediate action isn't it?" My voice murmurs out unconsciously at the raven. But that seems to catch his attention. He leans back and straightens his back, and then I hear the sound of the door shutting itself behind me. "Just go pack and leave without another word, right?"

His eyebrow twitches on his emotionless face, and I suddenly feel like walking straight back out of here. It's not a twitch of irritation or surprise, but a twitch of pure confusion. It's a twitch that makes me feel self-conscious. I don't know what I just said, or why I just said it, but the look he gives me in response makes me feel like I just said something terribly embarrassing. My face is slowly boiling up, and the rise and fall of my chest is beginning to become noticeable. But it's not just the embarrassment that is making me blush. Even more than that, there is this unexplainable frustration stirring my insides up, making my insides burn. But even as I continue to grow redder like a balloon growing larger, he just keeps staring at me.

Then he finally says: "What word?"

The inner balloon in me bursts. The embarrassment and frustration in me moulds in together, creating a chemical reaction and exploding inside me, making my brain knot together and tongue stumble for words as a result.

"Wha- what do you mean 'what word'?"

"You just complained about me leaving without another word. What do you want to hear from me?"

Damn him and his immediate responses! And with my puzzled mind it takes me twice as long to process his words just as it is. It makes me feel like an idiot. But when his words do sink in, the air around me disappears, and I suddenly have this large chunk in my throat.

"Well nothing, I… well… How about a polite 'Bye' or something?"

"It's not like I'm going anywhere, we're still in the same house"

"Well maybe room changing isn't a big deal to you, but-"

He blinks. "It's a big deal to you?"

I freeze. The words get stuck in my throat and I nearly choke, until I notice that I don't have any words in there to choke on. Just my nervous breath.

"What? No," I say with an _'I don't know what the hell you're talking about' _tone, mattering a few more 'no's to convince him, and myself. "You could walk right through me without a word and I wouldn't care"

"Oh," He says nonchalantly as he closes his box. His bed is made and none of his possessions are in sight, all stuck perfectly in that box. He lifts it up into his arms and turns to face me, is what I think, until he walks straight past me and out the bedroom door. But with the brief second he has walking past me, he manages to whisper into my ear: "That's a shame."

His voice is the usual monotone, disguised as emotionless. It is smooth like a cool wind simply passing by. Then why does it sound so warm against my ear?

…_Fuck_.

I crouch down and hold my head, digging my hot face into my arm.

_Fuck you, Craig._

Still holding my head with one hand, I use the other to run through my surroundings. When it finds a piece of clothing I throw it at my box placed beside my bed. It goes in.

ooo

I knock on Stan's door three times with the tip of my foot. To keep my manners of course, but more so it's because I can't use either of my hands because they're clinging onto my large box filled with clothes. I'm beginning to think that I should have packed my clothes neatly into the box. At least that way I would have a clear vision. My eyesight is blocked out by a huge mountain of clothes that I threw into the box, not worrying about closing the goddamn thing when I had the chance.

I hear the doorknob turn and before checking if it had opened, I stumble into the bedroom. The box falls with me and tips over, spilling my clothes all over Stan's floor.

"Ow…"

The skin on my elbows feels like they are burning ice flames. Whoever said carpet burns are bad should try burning their skin off on polished wood. I hiss in pain as I get up onto my knees. Then I let out a deep sigh when I see all my clothes spilled over the wooden floor.

"Jesus Kyle. Are you okay dude?" A concerned voice murmurs behind me and my burning pain instantly disappears. All the warmth in my body rushes to my face in embarrassment, now burning my cheeks instead.

I slowly look back in a crooked way like a broken robot, and find Stan leaning over me with a worried expression. The second our eyes meet we seem to freeze in each other's gaze. Is it just me, or is he really close? I blink a couple of times, and he does the same in response. I can almost feel his eyelashes bat above me. My breath seems to be locked up in my lungs by a heavy lock.

"Ahh… Stan?" The tense string that keeps him frozen in my eyes seems to break with a loud _ping!_ at my voice. It seems to have brought him back to reality, wherever he was.

"I'm fine." I firmly say to him. And as if it were the magic word, he jumps away from me, as if he had just noticed how close our faces were.

"Oh, okay. Cool"

I scrape the clothes spilled all over the floor into the box with my forearm. I'm normally not this messy, really. It's just that being neat is not my first priority right now. But when I finish scraping the clothes into the box and look at the gruesome sculpture that I've created, I regret that I maybe should have folded them. From the mountain of clothes piled into the box, there are some arms and legs hanging out like dead body parts.

"I'll clean it. Later..." I reassure Stan defensively, who seems to have been in another daze. He quickly nods and purses his lips together in an attempt of a smile. It's like his jaw is locked, preventing him from smiling his bright natural smile. In fact, his whole body seems to be all tensed up. Curiosity and concern stirs my stomach and I walk up to him and look into his eyes that have fallen into another daze, staring at something a mile away.

"Stan?"

"Huh?" It's like a bubble had just popped in his face, bringing him out of his daze. He's been doing that a lot lately. I can't help but scrunch my face up in worry.

"Dude, you okay?" I place my hand on his shoulder, just as he did to me a few hours ago. His warmth had given me comfort and I just hope my hand could do the same for him. He stays silent, as if he had just been stunned. His jaw is locked half open and his blue eyes frozen, not blinking or moving as if they were real sapphires. But he's not in a daze anymore, I can sense his eyes focused on me. Then why isn't he replying? I say his name as carefully and quietly as I possibly can. "Stan?"

"Yeah," He says, shaking his head as if to wake himself out of a long dream. I let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I'm fine"

And he smiles, that bright warm smile of his. It naturally pours a smile out of me too.

"Awesome" The word comes out of me as a laugh. And when he laughs back, the whole room suddenly lights up and I almost forget that it's midnight. His laughter is like a long summer day we had when we were kids. As strange as that may sound, it makes me feel like I'm a child again, when laughter was a type of energy you had to have to survive. His laugh makes me wonder how I possibly lived without it until just recently.

I slide my hand off of his shoulder that is shaking with laughter and form a fist in front of him. His laughter stops, and so does his shaking but I can't wipe my grin off of my face.

"Roommates for three days. Awesome, huh?"

He looks at my fist, and back at me, and then his bright smile returns to his face with a chuckle.

"Yeah, awesome"

He extends his own hand in a fist, and connects it with mine with a light knock.

As if it were possible, my smile extends even wider.

Seriously, how did I ever live without this guy?

ooo

With it being summer and all, I thought the drizzling rain would have stopped after a couple of hours. But no, it seems to want to continue until dawn. The sound of the rain is relaxing, but its continuous tempo, not slowing down if not going faster, is depriving my sleep. My mind automatically concentrates its senses onto the _drip,_ _drip,_ of droplets falling from leaves, ledges and rooves onto the ground.

I twist and turn in my bed but it is no use, so I focus my eyes onto the lump in the bed next to mine. It rises and falls to the rhythm of calm breaths, strands of black hair peeping out from the covers.

"Hey Stan?" I whisper, expecting no answer. But there is a moan in response, so I continue, not concerning whether I was the one that woke him or if he was already awake. "When do you think the rain's gonna stop?" My whisper becomes deeper and deeper, until it's mostly blocked off by the sound of the rain.

"I think it's gonna get worse, the rain," On the other hand, Stan doesn't even try to whisper. Maybe he's too tired to control his voice. "But I think it should end by tomorrow night."

"Oh…"

The sound of the rain suddenly feels awkward, so I shrug my blanket tightly around my shoulders and ask him another question.

"Do you like the rain?"

Silence comes in response, so I give up and dig my face into my blanket to block all the light off possible. Now, trying harder to fall asleep.

"I don't mind it" A sudden response comes, and I pop my head back out of the blanket. Somehow, the deep voice that breathes out in the dark room makes my heart race. The sound of my breath seems to echo in the silent room, until he continues: "But I like it better after the rain has stopped"

ooo

Open my mouth, bite down, chew very slowly, and then with great difficulty swallow down. This simple act of eating an apple seems like a great challenge to me. Last night, when I finally fell asleep it was nearly three in the morning. I spent most of my time rolling around in my bed wondering when the rain would stop, but in the end it didn't. Even now, at ten in the morning, it is still pouring down outside. I guess I can shock my brain awake with a cup of coffee, but I really can't be bothered. I take one last bite out of my apple and let my heavy forehead fall onto the counter with a loud crash.

"Dude! Kyle, you okay man?" I hear Kenny say. I mumble a response into the counter but he doesn't seem to understand it, so I just push the rest of my apple into his face, indicating him to eat it.

In my mind, he shrugs, takes the apple out of my hand and digs his teeth into it. But what I get instead, is a blunt voice saying to me: "If you don't eat that yourself I'm going to stuff it down your throat."

I lift my head up in confusion, and the second I do, a pale hand crushes the apple into my mouth.

"Craig, what the fuck!" Another new voice cries as I pull the apple out of my teeth. Goddamn it. I really didn't feel like finishing this apple.

"If he doesn't eat it, he's gonna die a midget"

"That doesn't mean you have to break his teeth with it!"

A few seconds later I notice that they're arguing about me so I look up, finding two six-footers getting at each other's throats.

"Goddamn it, you guys. Get a friggin' room." I mumble out tiredly. The way they glare at me in response sends a chill down my spine that wakes me up. Feeling uncomfortably small under their glare, I quickly take a chunk of my apple and give them a wide smile. "Happy?" Stan frowns troublingly and Craig grunts.

"Oh, guys, awesome! You guys!" Kenny's bright voice magically breaks the tension in the atmosphere and we all look at him, me with a little more enthusiasm to look away from the two ravens. Kenny gives all of us a bright smile before continuing. "I've just got an awesome idea!"

"What is it?" I ask.

His grin widens with confidence. "Let's do wrestling in the mud!"

We stare at him, unamused. But the way he doesn't even try to hide his excitement is a little admirable. Just a little. But it's a completely random and ridiculous idea.

"Kenny, we're not wrestling in the mud."

ooo

"I think I said that we're not wrestling in the mud!"

"We're not!"

"Yeah, we're just playing tag"

"…In the mud"

I huff at them frustratingly. Watching them chasing each other, tackling each other onto the muddy ground and throwing mud at each other, is in between amusing and idiotic. I mean, we're in high school now; who plays tag in high school? _Oh, there goes Kenny. Now he's 'it'. _

Although I sit under shelter and try to stare at them with contempt, watching them having fun like they did when they were nine makes me feel slightly jealous. Well, kind of. Kenny looks like he's having the time of his life but Stan and Craig look like they're in some kind of survival competition. They face each other defensively with mud in their hands, trying carefully to get at the other while Kenny… Wait a minute… where is Kenny?

"Aghh!" A high shriek escapes my mouth and I jump up onto my feet like a thunderstruck twig. A cold, slimy sensation droops down my back, sending unbearable shivers from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. All the joints in my body curl to endure the numbing feeling of slime crawling down my skin. Tears begin to form in the edges of my eyes and I accidently let out a shaky moan from the bottom of my throat trying to keep the tears down.

"Wow dude…" With great difficulty, I peek out of my tearing eye to find Kenny standing behind me with mud on his hands. Somehow, his face is coated with pure amazement, and a little amusement. "Your moan is like… unbelievably hot"

Without a second for him to defend himself, I scoop up a pile of mud and throw it as his face.

ooo

"Ew"

The clear hot water that shoots out of the shower dyes into a disgusting brown as it tickles out of my hair and down my feet. The shower has turned into a gruesome splatter of mud but the sense of cleansing I receive in return feels so relieving. I swing my hair around and scrub every inch of my body to make sure there isn't any mud left over. But my relaxing time in the shower is interrupted by two loud _bangs_ on the door.

"Come on Kyle! Hurry up!" Kenny cries, as if he's about to pee his pants or something.

"No way dude. You're the one who dragged me into this, now you have to wait another hour for me to get clean" He groans in response. Of course I'm joking, but listening to him suffer is amusing, so I decide to stay under the water for a while more.

"Please, Kyle! I've got like, mud up my ass and it feels _really_ weird"

"Okay okay, I got it!" I quickly turn the taps off and wrap a towel around my waist before barging out the shower, nearly hitting Kenny in the nose. But as I walk out the bathroom he doesn't say anything so I guess it's cool.

Walking down the hall, water dripping from my hair, I notice that the rain still hasn't stopped. It wasn't when we were playing tag in the mud, but it should be about time for the rain clouds to clear off.

By the time I come to my and Stan's bedroom, my head is numbing from my wet hair and goose bumps begins to form on my skin from the sudden drop of temperature after the shower. I become so eager to get warm that I forget to knock on the door before entering.

When I barge in the room, my upper body shivering naked, Stan stares at me with wide eyes and I immediately wonder if I should have knocked before entering.

"Hey" I say, feeling slightly uncomfortable under his gaze. I hug myself as a shield against exposure, to the cold, but also to hide my poor-looking features of thin meat and poky bones. He nods, but says nothing in return, only shaking his head quickly as I cross the room to my box of clothes. I guess the good thing about this box is that I don't have to think about what to wear. Not much of a choice really: white shirt and white shorts.

I don't really realise until I slip my legs through my shorts how tired I am. It's like this weight of sleepiness has suddenly slipped onto me along with my clothes. My knees begin to tremble, and I practically crush down onto my bed, unable to even hold down my own weight. It's noon, and I guess sleep is finally coming upon me.

Stan calls out something to me, but I don't even have the chance to ask him to repeat it before I fall into a dark calmness.

ooo

I knew that I shouldn't have had a nap in the middle of the day. Although it took all the weight off of my shoulders, now my mind is way too awake to even think about sleeping. It's like I just gulped down a whole pot full of espresso. There are bright lights flashing behind my eyelids but my mind is sort of soothing, like a storm had just passed. Speaking of which…I take a look out the window and find that the rain had calmed down from an aggressive pour to a calming drizzle. As Stan said, the rain should stop soon. Maybe by midnight.

I take a long sip of warm milk and feel the hot liquid burn through my throat. If I could warm myself up a bit more, maybe I could gain some drowsiness. Hopefully I would be able to go to sleep again by midnight. But I doubt it. That only leaves me with an hour or so and right now, I think the only thing that'll make me fall asleep is a handful of sleeping pills. I open my mouth to catch a yawn but nothing comes so I bite down in failure.

"Tired?" A voice calls behind me, which makes my heart jump against its socket, if hearts have sockets.

"Not really" I smile troublingly at the black haired boy standing behind me. Stan smiles back, but unlike me, his eyes are a bit droopy from fatigue. His look could be mistaken as affectionate, if you didn't look close enough. He walks around the white leather couch and drops himself next to me. He relaxes his body into the leather and lets his eyelids droop over his eyes. But the way he doesn't let out a deep sigh of relaxation, it's almost like he can't relax himself completely, or is trying not to. Somehow, the thought causes a wave of guilt in my chest.

"You don't have to stay here if you don't want to" I reassure him, but he shrugs it off.

"Can't sleep," he says. I purse my lips when the guilt stirs inside me a little more.

"Sorry dude. I thought I wouldn't wake you up if I were here." But I did. Stan's kind-hearted nature would have told him to come look for me if he noticed that I wasn't in my bed. Maybe he was worried-

"Don't worry, it's not your fault" His words stops a sigh from escaping my mouth. When I look up at him, he's smiling warmly, his tired eyes trying their best to focus on me. "Too much coffee" He grins, and he almost looks like he's not tired at all. It even manages to pull a light chuckle out of me.

My laugh seems to brighten him up with encouragement. Encouragement for what? I don't know. But he smiles at me and says, "Do you want to go outside?"

The sound of the drizzling rain seems to echo in my ear for a split second after his suggestion. Even the sound of my own heartbeat seems louder than usual. His warm smile, tired eyelashes and the clearness of his sapphire eyes seem much more deeper in that moment, even overwhelming. The word 'no' reaches the tip of my tongue, but I bite it down, and nod deeply as a 'yes'.

The warm smile he gives me in return is worth it. It makes me wonder why I _wouldn't_ go outside with him.

I leave my cup of hot milk on the coffee table, fume still rising into the warm air, and follow Stan out the front door.

"Look!" He says to me as I shut the front door behind me. He lifts his hand out from under the shelter and smiles brightly. "The rain is stopping."

Confused by his words, I extend my own hand and sure enough, I only catch a couple of droplets on my palm. The summer rain that lasted for over a day had ended. I smile at him excitedly and pull him out of the shelter, holding onto his wrist. He chuckles and nearly stumbles over the steps as I release him.

I look up at the sky and nearly gasp with amazement. The thick black clouds are moving at an immense speed that makes my eyes twirl. They're like a stampede of wild rhinos, aggressively kicking through the sky to move to their next destination. It's breath taking. In the far distance I can see the border of the thick clouds and clear starry sky. A sudden urge bursts inside me to get closer to that clear sky, like a child urging to get closer to the base of a rainbow.

"Come on Stan!" I barely call out before dashing towards the stars.

ooo

If people see how the appearance of the glowing sky made me so excited as to running around in the woods trying to catch up to the stars, they'd probably think that I am completely crazy or extremely immature. I wouldn't disagree with them. I probably would, but I'd agree with them in my head. The thing is, I'm running around like a child who just found Santa's trace in the midnight sky and Stan doesn't say a thing. I almost forget that I'm not alone, and it's just me and the stars, as gay as that might sound.

Following the clear sky I end up on one of the large rocks on the bank of the lake. I don't even notice that I'm out of breath until I come to a complete halt, when the sound of my footsteps stop and all I can hear is the sound of my own ragged breathing.

A small laugh of accomplishment leaks out of my mouth as I gaze up at the shining stars. But when I look down into the calm lake, I lose all my breath I was beginning to get back.

"Wow dude…" I hear Stan murmur behind me. As for me, I'm completely out of words. I don't even want to try to explain it. And I think my words would destroy it if I did. All the cheesiness in the world wouldn't be enough for the beauty of what I see.

It is as if someone had accidently kicked over a bucket full of glitters all over the surface of the lake. The still lake, calm and relaxing after the passing of an aggressive storm, is a mirror for the wide-open sky. Not a single star forgotten in its perfect reflection. The Milky Way shoots through the middle of the sky, dividing the lake in two. It is an image that cleanses you, purifies you, if you like. Get's rid of all your thoughts and emotions and makes you lose yourself in this one moment of the present. Makes you think that this is the one moment that would matter to you for the rest of your life.

We sit there on the large rock, staring at the stars for what seems to be hours. I can feel Stan becoming a little jittery beside me from what is probably boredom.

I've never been a huge fan of constellations, but I know enough to keep myself occupied with the stars for another couple of hours. That's the thing about me. I can find the most beautiful thing in the world and observe it as an analysing project.

"That's Orion isn't it?" A voice cuts in my thoughts. I quickly turn towards Stan who purses his lips and points at the sky. "Right there. Even I know that"

I look up at the point in the sky he indicates troublingly, but I0 end up bursting into laughter.

"What? What's so funny?" He jumps, his cheek tinting a shade of light pink.

I try to stop my laughter. Hitting the ground with my fist, hugging my stomach, coughing and covering my mouth with my palm to stop any more laughter. But it's not until some tears begin trickling down my cheeks that I finally stop myself.

"Stan…" I cough. "Oh Stan… dude, you can't see Orion this time of year" I finally manage out.

He blinks. "You can't?"

I nod. "Yeah. Not at night" A chuckle escapes my mouth again.

He groans, and pulls his hand back down in a disappointed manner. "Well, there goes my knowledge in constellations" I laugh again, and this time Stan joins in as well.

As our laughter dies down I point my own finger into the sky and Stan falls silent in confusion.

"Look at the summer triangle" I tell him.

"The what?"

"The summer triangle." My finger draws a triangle in the sky. "You see the three brightest stars? That's Vega, Altair and Deneb"

Stan narrows his eyes and follows my finger's movement with his eyes. "Uh-huh" He says, lost in concentration and determination to keep up with me. It's sort of funny, watching his serious expression as if he was confronting some sort of homework. I chuckle again before continuing.

"If you look at Deneb, there's Cygnus the swan. You see, there." I draw a somewhat cross in the sky starting at Deneb, but Stan simply frowns at it.

"Sorry Kyle. But I see no swan there"

I laugh, "Stan, you pisser!" and drag myself closer to him, still pointing at the sky. "That's Deneb, the tail, and the head's Albireo. Albireo looks like one big star but really they're two separate-"

I look at Stan, who's completely dazed with confusion. He stares at the movement of my finger but seems to be lost at what it is pointing at. I laugh again at his cluelessness and grab onto his hand and stretch it into the air, entwining my fingers around his so that he's pointing at the sky just as I was.

"See? That's Deneb, and there's Cygnus the swan. The biggest and brightest bird that flies in the sky…" I slowly come to a close suddenly feeling utterly embarrassed.

I feel like such a cheesy airhead know-it-all bastard. I want to dig a hole and bury myself in it. What is that about constellations and biggest bird in the sky? And you say that you never cared about the stars. What was all that cheesy crap then Kyle Broflovski, you fucking nerd?

I look up and see my fingers tangled around Stan's and everything feels ten times worse. I mumble a sorry and quickly untangle our fingers and set his hand free, pulling my hand back as fast as possible. But my hand stays in the air, locked in where it is when Stan's free hand quickly grabbed onto my wrist.

"Stan?" My voice is worried and confused. I try to look into Stan's eyes that are hidden behind his black bangs. The atmosphere has turned heavy and dense and I don't know if it's because of something I did or said. My temperature feels like it's dropping with every second I wait for him to speak, until he finally opens his mouth.

"Why did you stop talking to me two years ago?" He says under his breath. It is something so sudden and unexpected, that I don't process any of his words.

"Huh?"

He looks up, his hair falling out of his eyes showing his expression of desperateness and hurt. He looks into my eyes looking for an answer, something that is sure not to be there.

"Was it because you found out?" The words whisper out of him. A question that I don't even know if it's addressed to me or if he's just asking himself.

"What do you mean?" My worry is steadily building up. Stan looks like whatever is concerning him is physically hurting him, like there's a time bomb inside him that he just can't get out. My worry builds and builds to the point that I feel like I'm going to drown. Now I'm the desperate one. "What did I find out?"

He drops his desperate gaze and hides them back under his bangs. The grip around my wrist tightens, his fingers digging into my skin as if it is his only lifeline. It's so painful. Not physically, I can't even think of that. But it feels as though my heart is in his grip instead of my wrist, and he's squeezing it as hard as he can. It hurts in a way that makes me hate myself.

Suddenly, all the tension in him releases as if a tight string in him had suddenly broken free. He lifts his gaze up and I sink into his sapphire eyes. No more colour of desperate containment. He looks at me in a way so deep I lose all trace of thought. The grip around my wrist loosens and he slowly draws our arms back down besides us, his hand wrapped around mine.

For a brief moment, the time stops around us. The wind stops blowing, the trees stop waving, the stars stop twinkling, and I stop breathing. For that brief moment, Stan shut his eyes and leant into me. And for that brief moment, his lips were on mine. A small and short connection.

"…_This._"

Time starts again. The wind blows, the trees whisper and the stars begin to twinkle. But I don't breathe and I don't blink. I am still stuck frozen in time.

Stan moves in my sight, stands up maybe, and all I see are his legs that begin to move away from me. I hear a crush of pebbles then the sound of footsteps that disappear into the whispering trees.

ooo

Two years ago I found that it was my dream to be kissed by Stan Marsh.

Now the rain has stopped, and my dream that I locked up deep inside me had come true. But why is it? I can't help but wish for the rain to have never stopped.

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><p><strong>A.N- The only constellation I know is Orion…<strong>

**Anyway, thanks for reading! Hoped you liked it. Please review to motivate me for a faster update!**


	18. Chapter 18

**A.N- Thanks for reading and reviewing you awesome people! Glad to hear that some of you really liked the last chapter, which I enjoyed writing as well (Mostly because I had to do a lot of research on constellations. Doing research and using that in writing is fun). **

**We are very close to the end now! Hope you enjoy~**

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><p>I sit there frozen for hours, forgetting how to blink or how to breathe. It feels like I've become part of a rock or a plant. Slowly and silently dissolving into the environment, becoming part of the breeze that flows through the trees, dyed in the colour of the rising sun. My mind is so hollow and my body is so still to the point that that is what it feels like.<p>

Maybe I have unconsciously fallen asleep for a few hours and my mind only feels this way from sleeplessness. Maybe I have only been dreaming, sleep walking all the way here, to the bank of the lake. Is that what I want? For all of it to have been a dream caused by my desires that I locked away deep deep down?

But I know that that is ridiculous. I don't sleep walk, and it wasn't a dream. I wasn't here alone, I was _left_ alone stuck in this time freeze that I won't or don't want to get out of.

I watch the glowing sun rise over the higher mountains, turning the navy blue sky into a brighter morning colour. Watching it, I notice the reflection in the still, cold lake. No more stars.

My time freeze finally breaks when I hear the sound of crunching pebbles behind me. My head turns at the sound and I see a wave of blond hair climbing up the shadow of the rock I'm sitting on.

"Kenny?" I ask the boy who is crawling up the rock. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't sleep." he says, shrugging slightly as he places himself on the spot next to me._ The spot where Stan was sitting. _I watch him dazedly like a child with a fever who hasn't slept for days. He then points his index finger in the air in a thoughtful manner, as if he'd just come up with a brilliant idea. "But don't worry, it's not your fault. Too much coffee."

Every single muscle in my body begins to tense at his quotation. I stop blinking, my lungs stop working, my jaw slowly drops and I agape at him with disbelief and disgust until the words in my stomach build up for me to throw up at him. But somehow, the only thing I manage to say to him is, "You didn't…"

He grins cockily, as if he knew all the little mischief I've been going up to since I was ten. "Would it be better to say that I didn't?" He asks innocently, but challengingly.

I lunge at him, my little hands wrapping around his throat and shaking him widely. He laughs and apologises under my weak choking, which he seems to think of as playfulness. But there is half of me that is absolutely willing to let my fingers around his neck squeeze as hard as I can until his head pops off.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He continues to laugh. "But honestly, that's all I heard." My hands slows down its shaking at his sincere voice until it finally comes to a complete halt.

"…Really?"

"Yeah, well. Until you guys left the house. I swear I didn't do anything like follow you guys out here." He says, rubbing his throat slightly. But I still can't get some of my suspicion out of me.

"Then how did you know that I was here?" I challenge him.

He pouts and eyes me as if he's actually hurt by my suspicion. "Honey, can't believe that you actually don't believe me!" I punch him in the shoulder and he shuts up with a short laugh, which quiets down immediately.

"Don't call me honey." I warn him. He gives me this warm smile that makes my inside tickle in an uncomfortable way. No more mischievous or cockiness colouring his eyes anymore.

"I saw Stan coming back alone. He was holding his mouth as if he couldn't believe what he had just done. Like he just committed an unforgivable crime or something. I ignored it at first and went to bed, but I woke up like, half an hour ago with this urging curiosity to find you. This was coincidently the first place I came to. Not like there'd be many other places to look from anyway."

He said it quietly, un-Kenny-ishly serious, which made me believe his every single word. He even managed to make me feel a little guilty for doubting him.

"So!" He claps his hands together, suddenly breaking the quiet atmosphere, making me jump slightly. "Who's it gonna be?"

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean 'who'?"

"You know…" He shifts in his spot, nudging me with his elbow. "Who are you gonna pick as your boyfriend? Stan or Craig?"

It takes me a second to process his words, but when I do, I feel my face burn up into the colour of my hair. "You _knew_!" I blurt at him disbelievingly.

"That Stan and Craig liked you? Of course I did! Who didn't?" He laughs without humour as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What do you mean 'who didn't'? _I_ didn't!"

"That's because you're as thick as Cartman's fat tits when it comes to relationships and how people feel!"

I nearly gasp at his comment. "I'm not that thick am I?" I ask him, sincerely hurt with his choice of words. But he nods, regrettably.

"Sorry dude, but you are pretty slow in the non-textbook area."

I let out a deep sigh. I always knew that I was pretty thick, but as thick as Cartman's fat man-boobs? That was pretty severe.

"So Tweek and Butters knew as well?" Kenny shrugs in affirmation. "Jesus. Do you think Cartman knows?"

Kenny seems to find my question difficult to answer, but he finally answers with nod. "Yeah, he might have been one of the first people to know. He's pretty sharp with how people are feeling or thinking." I swear I hear a 'unlike you' somewhere in there, but maybe it's only my sensitive temper. Knowing that I'm _much_… _stupider_ than Cartman is pretty damping on the spirits.

For a minute we both go silent. Me, I try and sort out my thoughts, but I'm too clumped up with confusion to think straight. Kenny, I think he's keeping silent to help me think properly. But it's no use. My mind is overloaded with too much new information that I never even imagined, it makes me feel like there's smoke rising from my troubled brain. No matter how hard I try and find an answer, I am still lost to what the question is.

A rush of gentle wind blows past us, interfering my thoughts. And for that second, my mind goes blank like an untouched canvas.

I wonder how long Stan has liked me for.

"_Why did you stop talking to me two years ago? Was it because you found out?" _

Found out what Stan? _What_? I stopped talking to you because I found out my own feelings towards you, feelings that I needed to get rid of. Are you saying that I _didn't_ need to get rid of them?

_Stan_.

"Kenny…" I squeeze out of my blocked throat. My confused brain seems to be taking an effect on my body. All my muscles are tensed up, but somehow my tear glands are beginning to weaken. I feel like a weak, vulnerable, stupid, useless, insensitive jerk. Because I guess that is what I am. In the end, I am just a clueless shrimp. "Kenny, I don't know. I don't know what to do."

ooo

Kenny stayed silent, watching the sunrise thoughtfully. But I wasn't waiting for him to answer, not really. I think he knew that as well. After a while when the sun went full up into the sky, he clapped his hand on his knees and stood up, saying that it was time for us to go back. If I remembered then that another one of us is going home tomorrow, I would have probably gone with him. But no. I said that I would stay on this rock for a while more; until my mind cleared itself up a bit, at least until the tension in my muscles loosened up.

Now, that I remembered that one of us is going home tomorrow and with the sky no longer bright pink from the sunrise, I finally rock up onto my feet and inhale the fresh morning air that feels like the first breath of the day. I can feel my lungs working again and my muscles loosing up into a nice stretch.

Today is going to be a long day, but I bet it's going to fly by with a flick of an eye.

ooo

The summer sun rises early in the morning, and without any idea of the actual time, I sneak tiptoe into the house. I bet Kenny would have gone back to bed. Craig would have had the longest sleep out of all of us. …I wonder if Stan got any sleep.

The floor barely creaks as I make my way to the lounge room, and I try not to breathe just in case it might wake anyone up. When I finally make it to the kitchen and close the door behind me with a slight click, I release a sigh of relief and relaxation. I seem to have made it without waking anybody.

"Where did you go?"

An electric shock shoots through my heart at the sudden voice. The second I think that I made it without anyone noticing me I find that there's someone right behind my back. I turn my head like a jittery machine, anxious. My eyes catch the clock on the wall as I do. 6 AM.

The boy sits on the leather couch in the lounge room, his head tilted to the side so he could see the suspicious intruder sneaking through the kitchen door: me. _Well, good morning Craig. What are doing so fucking early on this fine fucking day? _I lose my voice somewhere in the bottom of my throat when I meet the ocean blue eyes staring up at me, dully.

"I, just… um…" pathetic words, or sounds, escape my mouth in attempts of making an excuse. But he turns back away from me as quickly as the blood rushes away from my face. I regret making every sound I make as they come out. I sound like someone who just came back from murdering and burying a body in the woods.

"Do you want a cup?" The monotone voice says again, cutting off my pathetic sounds. I shut up in confusion and he tilts his head back around at me. "Coffee" He says, and flicks the rim of the mug he's holding.

"Um… okay?" I'm still confused at his sudden offer, but accept it nonetheless.

He nods a small nod of confirmation then gets up. "I'm sure my coffee would be heavenly compared to yours." He mocks, which manages to light up a sudden fire in the back of my head.

"Hey! Just because you work at a fucking coffee shop doesn't make you better than me."

"The best fucking coffee shop in Colorado" He corrects, walking past me into the kitchen. "And yes. I think it makes me a better coffee maker than you" His smirk some how sets oil to my fire and I push him away from the coffee beans.

"Fine!" I say, rolling up my sleeves. "Show me how to make a cup of coffee if you're so much better than me!"

As I dig my hand into the bag of rich coffee, the fragrance bursting into my face, there's a wave of guilt that suddenly emerges and squeezes the bottom of my stomach.

I know that my sudden behaviour of acting highly is to avoid thinking serious matters. But if I think now, my mind is going to explode and my curls would turn back to a red broccoli. So for now, at least until I wake my mind up with a cup of coffee, I will stop thinking. I will do _anything_, to stop thinking.

But I promise I will do some thinking later. I _promise_.

ooo

"Kyle, Kyle!" I hear someone whisper out my name, loudly. My hand pauses on the coffee blender and I swish my head from right to left, to front to back, but I don't find anyone. "No! Down here!" The voice says again, a little more loudly. I look down and voila; suspicious cerulean eyes are peeking out of the food storage, eyeing me to come closer.

"What Kenny." I say to the hiding boy, not bothered to keep my voice down. He rolls his eyes at my insensitivity and flaps his hand in a 'come closer' gesture. I roll my eyes back at him, but do as I'm told. The blond creaks the lid open just enough for me to slip through and closes it quickly behind me. "What is it Kenny?" I ask him again. But the second he turns on the light, my question is answered.

"Kyle, help me would you?" He orders, ignoring my dazed expression. "Kyle!" He snaps, bringing me back to conscious.

"Kenny, are you stealing food?" I ask the kid walking around the storage, picking out cans and jars and packing them in his bag.

"Kyle…" he says tiredly, "'stealing' is such a strong word. Call it 'taking them home without permission', which I now have from you, I guess" And he throws a bag at me before continuing picking out more food. I lift the bag up in a dumbfounded way, asking him what he's expecting me to do. "Pick food that would last longer, like cans and stuff."

But I stand there blankly, with the bag hanging lifelessly from my hand, watching him work away. He stops after a few seconds, confused as to why I haven't started working. But how could I?

"Why?" I ask him.

He gives me a troubled look. "Why what? Because it's free food, obviously"

"No." I tell him frustratingly, dragging my feet towards him. "Why now?"

He looks at me as if I'm the most stupid person in the world. Like he can't believe that I'm missing something so obvious. "Because I'm going home tomorrow. _Obviously_" He emphasises his second 'obviously'.

"You don't know that"

"Oh, yes I do" He replies, going back to stashing cans into his bag.

I frown at his back. "How would you know?"

The sound of clanking jars stop with Kenny's movements. His hand pauses on a jar of pickled cucumbers, something none of us has used since we came here. He drops his hand to the side with a tired sigh and turns around to face me, his gaze strong, sucking me into his eyes.

"Because Kyle, this reality show isn't about me."

"What do you mean it's not about you? It's a friggin' reality show it's about no one"

"No Kyle," I really wish he would stop emphasising my name with frustration. "This show is about you."

I blink. "What?"

Kenny sighs again and rolls his eyes. "This show is about you, Kyle. It's not about me, not about Tweek or Butters. It's about _you_. And your two little ravens of course…" He trails away as he turns back to his cans and jars. "The rest of us are just supporting characters to help you to the perfect ending. Whatever that is. Butters and Tweek played their own part, that's why they left"

What he says, links a little to what Tweek told me, but it's still illogical. I mean, this show has no script and has no plot. It's just a stupid fucking reality show made by stupid fucking Cartman. Nothing more, nothing less. What goes on between us is our own personal business.

"Then are you saying that you still have a part to play?" I challenge him.

"Oh yes." He replies, just as challengingly. "Stealing all the goddamn food I can get my hands on" He throws a can in the air and catches it in a 'cool' way. Just like they do in TV shows and movies.

I laugh and shake my head at the cocky blond winking cockily at me. But to be honest, I still don't know what he's talking about. We all came here for our own personal reasons, as Tweek said. It's not about me, or anyone in particular. It's just a stupid reality show people watch during summer break because they have nothing better to do. But I don't say that. Kenny obviously has a different idea and I don't want him to think that I'm a complete bonehead.

Without saying another word I turn to the shelf next to me and shake Kenny's bag open. I grab a can of peas and place it in the bag before grabbing another armful. I want to fit as many cans as I can. There are plenty of non-canned products for three of us to live off for another couple of days.

"Thanks" Kenny says as I hand him his twenty pound bag filled with all kinds of cans and jars, enough to live off for at least a couple of weeks. I still don't completely believe that he'd be the one going home, but either way, there's only a couple of days left until this whole thing is over.

Does that make me feel sad, or am I slightly looking forward to it? Maybe I'm just tired.

ooo

Overall, a very boring day I must say, in the 'viewers of this show's point of view. Me, I was very busy. Taking private coffee lessons from Craig, helping Kenny steal food from the storage, but that all happened 'behind the scenes'. Hidden away from camera or being too early in the morning for anyone to watch. And when Kyle thinks, Kyle goes quiet, and that somehow meant for the whole house to stay quiet for the day. Am I really that loud? But all that doesn't concern me, at all. I am not an entertainer for Cartman's viewers and it's not my obligation to stay an interesting character on his show. I am merely here because…

And that brings me back to my point: _thinking_. Searching for an answer in my brain and a question to go with it, or should it be the other way around? I don't even know what I'm looking for. I let out one long deep sigh. Because this whole day hasn't been about Kyle thinking, it has been about how Kyle desperately _avoided_ thinking. But now I know there's no more avoiding.

I turn the hot water tap on near full blast, followed by another strong turn on the cold water tap. The fuming water shoots out the shower angrily, attacking my pale skin. But the stinging heat, it feels good.

The sound of the water hitting the tiles under me begins to echo in my head like some sort of hypnosis. I stare at the droplets bouncing off the tiles with a blank mind, for minutes, hours, days… In reality, a few seconds.

It is time to think. And the shower, a place that unties all the knots inside me, is a perfect place for that. I close my eyes, and let my ears sink in the sound of falling droplets of water. The same sound the rain makes when it hits the roof. For a second, it feels as though that long rain had never passed and that we are still in the middle of it. The thought makes the tip of my lips twitch suddenly.

_What do I want most? _The question suddenly pops up in my head like a flash, and I almost laugh at how easy the answer comes up as well.

What I want most? That's easy. I want to be close with Stan.

_But how_…

There's this nagging feeling at the back of my head, like an itch that I can't seem to reach no matter how far I stretch. My hand turns the taps to a close, I dry myself and get changed, but my mind stays focused on that one single area at the back of my head.

My fist pauses in front of my bedroom door, swaying there for a few seconds, hesitantly. But I let it slide down onto the door handle and let it open without a knock instead. I have just told myself that I want to be close to Stan and doing something that would drift us apart is the last thing I want to do. Knocking on my own bedroom door just because Stan's in there seems to me as a socially 'not-so-close' gesture.

When I enter, I find that Stan is already curled up in his bed, lights turned off. It's only ten o'clock. I sit on my own bed, looking at the peaceful face somewhere far away. My whole body is exhausted and my brain is swimming, but I guess it was Stan who was the most exhausted one.

"Stan" I whisper, but no answer, naturally. I wish I could have talked to him before he fell asleep. To have gotten some things straight with him. Tomorrow someone's going to leave us for the last time before the end, and if it's either of us, then we might drift away again, and it would be the end, for real. I don't think I could live with that, not now. But watching his sleeping face, I can't help but feel relieved that I can't talk to him, not until he wakes up.

I have thought, and I have come up with an answer, but I know it's not enough. Maybe what I came up with won't be helpful in the slightest bit. But it's the only one true feeling I really know. Everything else is still clumped up in a knotted ball I can't seem to untie.

But maybe it's something I can't find out by thinking. Maybe it's something that suddenly pops up in your head, like when you're taking a shower. Maybe it's time for me to stop thinking.

I lie down and close my eyes, and as I do, Kenny's soft voice from earlier on echoes in my head.

"_Who are you gonna pick?" _

ooo

"Rise and shine Kyle, honey"

"Don't call me _honey,_" I grumble back as the voice laughs.

"Okay. Wake up _babe_"

I kick my blanket off, aggressively enough so that I hit the blond bastard in the stomach as I do.

"What's up" I say, drowsily, throwing off my pyjama top and wiggling through a new one.

"It's my last day so we're making green eggs and ham to celebrate. Well, without the green bit."

I pause to frown at his words, my shorts dangling half past my knees. "You don't know that yet"

"Oh, yes I do" He says, confidently. I grind my teeth in frustration and turn my body to face him as soon as I finish changing.

"Kenny!" But he stops me, with a light press of his index finger to my lips.

"Yes, I do" He says again, more quietly and firmly. "Kyle, there's a car waiting for me outside right now."

I rush to the window and thrash the curtains open, and sure enough, there's a black Mercedes waiting outside for a certain someone. I also notice the time, 9AM, and the fact that Stan isn't in his bed anymore.

"I overslept?" It was a question to myself, but Kenny nods for me anyway.

"Cartman said that I could eat breakfast before leaving. It's all ready. Now, we're just waiting for your coffee"

"Huh? " I ask him disbelievingly. Everyone knows my coffee is crap, even after my training with Craig. "Me?"

"Yeah, you. Apparently your coffee has really improved. Come on!" He grabs my wrist and drags me out of the bedroom, but even with my feet stumbling under me I can only think of one thing. Who the hell would say that my coffee had improved?

I am welcomed into the kitchen with the most unpleasant surprise: the delighted voice of Eric Cartman. "Kyle! My man," He says, arms swinging in the air as he approaches me, and to my great horror, patting my back affectionately.

"Don't touch me" I spit at him, darkly.

"Wow, wow" He backs up with his arms in he air, smirking like the pig that he is. "I'm sorry. I didn't think sluts minded physical contact"

"Fuck you fatso, I'm not a slut!"

"Oh really?" He raises his eyebrows. "The definition of a slut is a slovenly or promiscuous woman. The way you're bleeding out your vagina clearly indicates that you're a female, and kissing two different guys in one week doesn't exactly make you chaste."

His statement sucks up all the words inside me and the air inside my lungs along with them. The room suddenly goes silent; no one breathes, no hearts beat, or is that only me? My whole body suddenly goes tense, my lips freeze and my eyes are locked disbelievingly on Cartman's grey ones. _No, he didn't just…_

"What?" A voice says, tonelessly, but firmly. My eyes blink and my frozen lips break apart. But before any words can come out Cartman says over my clumsy voice.

"Oh, don't you know Craig? Kylie got kissed on the lipsy-lips by Stanley" Cartman licks off in my face, dreamily, mockingly. His voice and his face disgust me, but his words somehow fix me from pushing him or punching him in the face.

I feel completely lost, not being able to even say anything to him. Because whatever I say is sure to affect Stan as well, and the last thing I want is to bring Stan down with my own quick temper. Whatever I'll do or say, Cartman would use that against me. I've been petrified. I'm scared that everything is going to crush from underneath me.

"That's not such a surprise." The voice states simply and quietly from behind me. But I hear it clearly, and the words stick to me like a wet tongue on dry ice.

"…What?" Something stops inside me, or does it start? "Did you just say that what Cartman said wasn't a surprise?" My voice is quiet, careful, but dangerous. I can feel it; something hot bubbles inside me like anger.

I turn and face the emotionless guy sitting at the kitchen table, furrowing his eyebrows at my sudden temper. "Yeah" He says, experimentally.

"Well you know what Craig? Fuck you too!" I spit at him with all the sudden anger rising inside me. I don't even know why or where it came from. But somehow, I can't forgive Craig for what he just said. I hate him, even more than Cartman right now. I feel like a child who has been accused from his teacher for something he hasn't done, or being judged by someone who barely knows you at all. The frustration is unbearable, and it takes all my will power to keep myself from punching Craig and pouring down tears of frustration. I glare knives and daggers into him, and he stares back at me, cool and expressionless.

"Well!" A sudden clap of hands instantly breaks our eye contact. "Drama, drama, how very interesting, however!" Cartman twists a button on the sleeve of his suit, fascinatingly. Did I ever mention that? Every time he comes here he's always wearing a very tight suit (well, tight on him at least). Just another douchey aspect of him that really irritates me. "I believe that it is time for me to leave you four for your last meal with Kenny"

Cartman kicks his heels with a click and walks past me, but as he does, he manages to whisper into my ear. Very lowly. "Make this as interesting for me as possible, hmm?" I bite my bottom lip in hatred and stare at the one point on the floor, which helps me stop from attacking the fatass.

"Oh, and by the way." Cartman turns, one foot away from the exit. "There are no more roommates. There's three rooms, three of you, you can do the math."

And he finally leaves. Leaving me inches away from explosion. The one thing what I want to do now is to scream into a pillow and rip it into shreds. Maybe even make a few holes in the wall with my tiny fists. I feel like I can do anything destructible right now.

"Hey Kyle," A calming voice says to me and pats me on the shoulder. It's Kenny, with his warm, concerning eyes, which manage to squeeze the frustration out of me along with a deep sigh.

"Sorry dude, I just- I don't…" I wipe my face to cool my temper down.

"Yeah, I know Kyle, Cartman's a douchey jack off. But for the meantime-" Kenny says. And with his hand still on my shoulder, he reaches for a plate on the table. "Let's eat a juicy breakfast and calm down, yeah? Look at these scrumptious eggs and ham. It's chicken ham you know?" He sways the plate full of food temptingly under my nose. Smiling seducingly.

But somehow, his seductive gaze and baby talk seem to manage a breath of laugh out of me. Only because of how stupid he's acting. I chuckle again, and steal a piece of ham from his plate.

ooo

It's amazing how one nervously fucked up morning can turn out to become one amazingly lively breakfast. I'm beginning to believe that Kenny has some sort of magic, I really am. He may have been reading the atmosphere yesterday and kept it quiet for me to think, but now, he's keeping nothing in. It's his last moments here and he's having the time of his life.

He laughs at the top of his lungs, which manages to drag all three of us in with him. Whatever tension we had, he breaks it for this brief time. He talks about fun memories we had since we came here. _Remember when Tweek found a spider in his room and we chased him with it all the way to the lake? Or even better, the look on your face Kyle when I was chasing after you while I was covered in soot. That was a pisser! Good times, good times. _

What are we? Four middle-aged guys in a pub who just walked into their best buddies of high school? But time flies by, and soon our breakfast plates are empty. A loud beep echoes outside and we all lift our heads dully.

"Well guys. I guess that's it." Kenny says, lifting up his two bags not-so secretly filled with canned food and jars. "Off I go."

We watch him drag along his heavy bags, slowly and clumsily. It's a painful sight, watching the big bags scrape off bits of wood from the walls and floor. "Hey, six-footers," He calls out to Stan and Craig. "Need some help over here!"

Half groaning, half laughing at how pathetic he looks, the two ravens grab the monstrous bags off of Kenny and race each other out the door. How mature.

"It's always convenient having two six-footers who are enthusiastic about carrying your stuff, right?" Kenny says, walking beside me while eyeing the two amusingly.

"Yeah. It's almost like a competition to them" I breathe out.

"Well it is." I look at Kenny. "And who's the winner?" He looks back at me with a grin.

"Winner for what?" I spit.

He slumps his shoulders still with a troubled grin on his face, letting out a light sigh. "Who's it gonna be, Kyle?"

The fact that I half guessed what he was going to say, does that make me a psychic or a person desperate to avoid this subject.

"Kenny, I…" He raises his eyebrows expectantly. I shift my eyes away from him and onto the other two guys waiting for us out through the door. "Stan's my… and I don't even like…" My mouth moves, but the most important words don't seem to come out.

"Is that the answer you got from thinking?" Kenny's soft voice draws my eyes back to him. He smiles and shrugs. "But it's not even really a question you can answer from thinking though, is it?" He says, and leads me out the front door.

"Thank you gentlemen." Kenny says, picking the bags out of Stan and Craig's hands. "I'd give you a tip but, since I'm broke" A shrug, before turning his back on us and chucking his bags at the driver waiting by the car door.

"See ya, Ken." Stan says, and Craig lifts a hand in the air for salute.

"Bye, Kenny" I say as brightly as I can manage, waving a hand in the air.

Kenny pauses with his hand on the door handle of the car and furrows his eyebrows as if he'd just remembered that he'd forgotten something.

"What's wrong Kenny?" Stan asks.

"Forgotten something," Kenny answers as he walks past him. "Just unfinished business" He finishes, stopping right in front of me. "Right, Kyle?"

"What?" I ask, but he ignores my question and cups the side of my face with his palms. And before I know it, his lips are press against mine, sucking my bottom lip softly.

But the person I kiss, it's not Kenny. His thin dirty blond dyes into jet-black, and his cerulean orbs turn to a blue one shade darker. The person I kiss is not Kenny, but it's who I want.

And there's the answer. With one simple kiss.

I stare dumbfounded at the boy pulling back from me, his hair back to a scungy blond and his eyes bright blue again. A confident smile planted on the lips that were just on mine.

"How's that?"

I can't believe it.

"Yeah…" is all I can manage out of myself. There are no more knots in my head; they are all untangled. The clearness of my mind is almost overwhelming. I can't even bring myself to punch Kenny in the nose for what he did.

"Thanks"

He nods and gives me the brightest grin I've seen in a very long time. "There's no need to think for an answer. Because the body always knows."

"Oh," My face has suddenly begun to heat up from the realisation. The silkiness of the black hair and the deepness of the blue in his eyes. The second I kissed Kenny and imagined him to be someone else I had made my decision.

I now have the answer to whom I want to _be_ with.

"Well, Kyle. Now it's all up to you." Kenny says, walking towards the car. He nods at Stan and Craig as he passes by, laughing his head off at their blank expressions.

I shoot my hand back into the air and wave at the bastard in the black Mercedes, probably grinning himself crazy as the car turns and disappears into the gaps of the trees.

A smile tingles the side of my mouth.

'_The body always knows.'_

That's so Kenny…

No wonder how hard I thought I couldn't find an answer.

ooo

Two more days until we leave this house. No more challenges, no more canned food and no more roommates, now that there's a room for each of us. But I guess the biggest challenge for me is still waiting.

Two more days left for me to say whom I want to be with. And that makes me wish that I never came up with the answer.

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><p><strong>A.N-Next chapter is the last. Who would Kyle choose? Who's going to walk out the house with one million dollars? Find out next week on Truth and Reality.<strong>

**I have a whole plain trip to write it but since I won't have a laptop with me I don't know when it will be updated. Maybe not next week, or maybe. **


	19. Chapter 19

**A.N-Sorry for the slow update! But this is the end, no more waiting after this! Super thanks to all of you who reviewed! I know that it won't be an ideal ending for all of you but I hope you enjoy and read to the end. Oh, and in the story there are three days left but I only wrote two of them. **

**Despite being the last chapter this is one of the shorter chapters. Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: For the last time I don't own South Park or any of the characters. Also the lyrics to the song, it's by My Chemical Romance.**

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><p>There's always a small contradiction between truth and reality. That is one thing I learnt during my time here. I also learnt that that small contradiction can change everything, and that it can hurt as hell.<p>

ooo

I remember the first day I walked into this house. I was filled with excitement, doubt and anxiety, but I didn't even dream that something like this would happen. This, clichéd love triangle or whatever. Urgh. When you put it that way it sounds so cheap and ridiculous, but it happened, and it messed up my mind like hell.

Now, I walk into the house with a completely different feeling. Loneliness. The remaining three of us, me, Stan and Craig, stand here, observing the house. It seems much bigger, from emptiness, than it did a few minutes ago. Now that Tweek, Butters and Kenny have all left, all that is left now is us three, caught up in this weird whirl of crazy emotion. And strangely enough, it is me that can get all of us out.

I feel the cameras zoom in on us as we stare into the lounge room, and for the first time since the day that we got here, I feel unbearably exposed. It suddenly reminds me of the reality that this is a show, a form of entertainment: nothing more, nothing less. I would hate to admit it, but maybe Kenny was right. Maybe we are just characters that play the part in a show with a script written by Cartman. The show of the screwed up triangle of two ravens and a shrimp, how humorous.

Just the thought makes my insides boil with rage. The last thing I want is to be one of Cartman's puppets, but I won't be able to forgive myself if I let his existence influence my actions. I came here for a purpose and I also have new things that I have to get straight. And I won't let my hatred for Cartman get in the way of that. If that makes me an interesting character, and if that makes Cartman satisfied, then so be it.

ooo

Thinking, preparing, avoiding, time flies as fast as a cheetah running for its prey. Before I know it, it is night and I'm in front of Stan's bedroom door, breathing into the smooth wood, my breath all shaky and nervous. This can either lead to a new beginning, or it can end everything. To tell the truth, I'm not even sure of what that kiss was about. We haven't talked properly since then and I haven't asked him what it meant. Did it mean that he liked me? After all this time that I thought my feelings for him were a one-way road? Or was he just caught up in the heat of the moment? After the heat of the kiss fades and after my head cools down, those are the questions that I begin to ask myself. But I won't get any answers just by standing here.

My hand swims around the surface of the door, preparing to knock. It's a funny thing, actually. Although I won't laugh. Every time I want to go into Stan's room my fist swims around aimlessly. I guess, after all this time wanting to become friends with Stan again, I was the one doubtful of the relationship that we were developing. And I know now, that it was all because of my feelings towards him that were not dealt with.

My hand pauses in its spot and it clenches into a tight fist.

I knock.

"Stan," my voice breathes. "Can I come in?"

I bite my bottom lip as my lungs stop frozen. Every second that passes waiting for Stan's response feels like a whole minute. And with my breathing stopped, I feel like I'm arriving an inch from death.

And he finally says: "Sure."

My body instantly releases its tension when I hear his voice. My lungs let out a breath of relief and realisation.

Okay. Here I go.

Breathe in.

The sound of the door creaking open enters my ears, and yet again it seems much too loud. Before I know it the door is wide open and there's nowhere for me to hide from the boy sitting on his bed. I feel exposed again. I can barely see anything in the dark room, but the light of the corridor that shines on my back almost feels like a spotlight that shines me up on an intimidating stage. It's nearly enough to take away all my courage.

I stop and wonder for a second. What I'm about to say, would it do anything to make Stan feel better? I guess that all depends on the feelings he has towards me.

"Stan," I begin, calling his name carefully and quietly, but firmly.

"Kyle." He replies. I can vaguely see his lips twitch in an attempt of a smile in the dark. But it fails.

"Stan… I," But my words are stuck there, just before my lips. Standing here in the doorway is ridiculous. What I'm about to say is nothing short and simple. It needs to be a proper conversation… Because this is meant to be between the both of us, and it's the first time I'm telling him my feelings.

I let out a sigh and restart myself.

I straighten up my back, nice and tall, at least as tall as I can manage, and shut the door behind me. Without the corridor light the room is nearly pitch dark. My footsteps seem to echo around me as I walk towards Stan sitting on his bed.

He seems surprised by my actions, or my sudden confident attitude. But I try to ignore his startled expression. I stop at the edge of his bed, turn around and place myself on the mattress.

Do I seem calm to him? I keep my face firm, my eyes almost glaring into the empty atmosphere. But in reality, my heart is beating a hundred and twenty times per minute. My teeth are nearly chipping away from keeping my jaw firmly locked. I can feel sweat forming on the back of my neck, behind my red hair. But that is all okay. Stan can't see it. If I look strong and confident to him, then it's all okay.

I stay put on the edge of the bed, feeling Stan's gaze and feeling my insides slowly chip away. I try and gather up my thoughts and feelings, and words that can express them.

"Stan," my head turns to face the raven boy automatically. How many times have I called his name now? The muscles in my face lose control. I can feel the confidence and strength slip away from my face. And I'm lost with what to say.

We sit there, on his bed, in silence for a while, a minute, or an hour. I slowly feel my eyes adjust to the dark. My mind seems oddly soothing, like a cool wind has just washed past my mind. And then a flush of memory pops up in my brain. I accidently blow out an instant laugh, my hand unable to hold it in as I hold my mouth shut.

"What?" Stan jumps, his voice more lively than it was a few minutes ago. And that is such a relief.

"It's nothing. I just remembered something from when we were small." My voice is still jolty with laughter. But Stan looks at me with confusion and suspicion, which calms my laughter. So I tell him.

"Stan, do you remember that time we got lost in the woods for like, a whole day?"

The suspicion on his face dissolves into a stronger colour of confusion. "…Yeah"

With my gaze still fixed to the ground my eyes soften into a light smile. Because I can see Stan and myself of that day, lost in the woods.

"It took us a while to notice that we were lost. I said that we should stay where we were, because that's what you're meant to do when you're lost. But do you remember what you said? Nothing. You ignored me and grabbed my hand and took us deeper into the woods."

I take a moment of silence to remember the warmth of the memory. The warmth of his hand sinking into my skin, the determination that could be felt from his back; I wasn't _in_ love with him then, but I knew that he was the one person in the world that I could trust forever. And something, the air of that moment maybe, told me that he was one person who I'd _be with_ forever.

"I followed you absentmindedly. Somehow, the second you took my hand the ridiculousness of walking deeper into the woods left my mind. And then guess what? A few hours later you led us onto the road that took us back to South Park."

It was already pitch dark by the time we reached the road. But the sky was clear without a single cloud. I knew that because the sky was coated with a sheet of shining stars, which lit the road all the way home.

But now, it's pitch black in this room without any light to show me the way. But there's one thing that's the same. Stan is right beside me. The one person I'll trust forever. And that makes me feel likes there's nothing to be afraid of.

My fingers search the bed-sheets until it finds Stan's hand. The hand that led me when I was lost. I squeeze it.

"Stan, do you remember two years ago when I stopped talking to you?"

His hand twitches in my grip and I take that as a 'yes'.

"It wasn't your fault," I say, "it was mine."

I see Stan's eyes jump up and meet mine. But there's no more hiding. My eyes seem to have adjusted quite a lot to the dark. I take in his gaze, firmly, and squeeze his hand a little more. To let him know.

I'm serious, Stan.

"I fell in love with you." As embarrassing the word 'love' is, I use it, because it doesn't need an explanation. "I found out that I loved you and I thought that it was wrong."

His hand in mine feels like it turned to stone. It even seems like he has stopped breathing. Yeah… I bet it's a shock.

"I joined this show to get rid of that feeling, so I could become normal friends with you again. But Stan, I… When…" Emotional management is not one of my strong points and right now, the frustration of not being able to tell him, not having the courage to tell him is going to make my head explode.

Before I know it I am out of breath from being too nervous. I use a few seconds to calm down. I don't even know how he feels, so why am I so under pressure?

"It worked…" A voice gasps. My voice. "It worked Stan."

I pull my legs onto the bed and crawl a few inches closer to Stan. I bring my other hand to the one clenched onto Stan's and wrap it tightly. So tightly, that I feel Stan's hand in my hold vibrate under my shaking. I shut my eyes and rest my forehead on our connected hands. I can't help it.

"I love you Stan, but I'm not _in_ love with you anymore."

How he would take my words is all up to how he feels about me. But I'm not about to ask him. Unless he wants to say it, I don't think it's necessary.

A small chuckle sways the cool air in the room. It lifts my head up and I look into Stan's face. There's a small smile there, though I can't exactly say what it indicates.

"I was sort of expecting that." Another chuckle and another smile, and this time our eyes meet. They're shiny; his sapphire eyes shine… I can't hold myself in anymore.

"Stan!" My whole body pounces on him before my brain sends any orders. "I love you!" My arms wrap around him and send him grinding into the mattress. "I'm so sorry Stan!" I'm almost crying. "I'm so sorry I suddenly stopped talking to you!" It feels like the first time in years that our feelings connected. "I love you Stan! I love you! I love you!" I can't control my actions or my words. And I'm not about to try. "I love you so much dude." Because I've finally reconnected with him.

"Yeah. I love you too Kyle." His words leak out of his smile. A smile! Bright as hell! It makes my hug even stronger from joy. I haven't seen that smile in ages. But I soon loosen my grip and pull myself up, looking down on him. His hair is all messed up from my tackle, his pajama top is basically ripped off and his face is bright red from the sudden excitement.

A soft smile tints my lips.

"Stan, we're friends right?"

"Yeah."

"We're Super Best Friends right?"

"Yeah…Always."

I can sort of understand why Stan doesn't have the light on now. The moonlight shining through the window is enough to light up the whole room, once you get used to it. I can see Stan's face now, clear as day.

I can taste my tears that leak through my wide grin but I don't care. For once I'm showing my emotions without holding back. It's two years worth.

ooo

I leave Stan's room about an hour later. All calmed down after lying next to him in bed, like we used to. Like when I sneaked into Stan's room at night and snuggled into his bed next to him and like when he did to me.

When I close his bedroom door I begin to hear soft plucking of guitar strings. And when I notice the melody I let out a light sour chuckle. The irony.

I begin to whisper the song with his fading guitar as I walk away from his room.

"_When you go would you have the guts to say 'I don't love you, like I loved you yesterday'…"_

Yeah. I had the guts all right…

My mind is soothed with satisfaction, but it is also heavy from unexplainable loneliness, like the feeling of graduating school. The goodbyes you say and the small expectations for the next school. I said goodbye to my feelings towards Stan, but I know that it would lead to a better friendship. It's sort of sad, but the relief and happiness is greater.

Then why do I feel so empty?

Walking through the lit up corridor, my feet take me to the white leather couch in the lounge room. I don't know if it's because I don't want to be alone or if it's because I want to be alone, but either way he's there, on the couch, glaring out the dark window.

He doesn't seem to notice me enter the room, so when I take the other half of the couch he swings his head towards me in surprise, like a reflex. But I don't meet his gaze. His widen eyes relax into his natural emotionless state as I ignore his changing facial expressions.

Neither of us open our mouths to talk. I don't feel like it yet and I think that Craig is not willing to force anything out of me. The thought leaves us in silence for nearly an hour. It's strange. I feel like I could sit here with Craig in silence for hours. If Stan is someone I can stay up all night talking to, then Craig is someone I can stay with for hours without words.

But I know that I have to tell him.

"I just talked to Stan"

He makes a noise at the back of his nose.

"I told him that I don't love him."

That catches his attention. He turns his head again with wide eyes, this time meeting mine. He's surprised. I could almost laugh at his blank expression but I won't. I don't think this is a laughing matter.

"That's all" I finish. I want to tell him more and I can tell that he's aching to ask. But I don't feel like saying any more. I just want to sit here in silence, next to him.

I think he understands my wish when I hold his hand.

ooo

I take one step back and take a good look of the clean bedroom, good as new. Say goodbye to the room Kyle. It's not like I have special attachments to the room or the whole house or anything, I mean, in the end we were only here for twenty days. But it's funny how only twenty days can make you change.

"Kyle! Are you done yet? We're leaving."

"Okay!" I call out to Stan's voice and hurry out the room, not bothered to give it a last glance.

As I rush through the corridor the lounge room catches my eye. Through the large window I can see the lake in the distance shining off the summer sun. Beautiful weather.

"What took you so long?" A cool voice says. I apologise and squeeze in between the two ravens standing just outside the house. A wide grin is on my face. I can feel my green eyes light up. Beautiful weather. I feel as light as a feather, the cool breeze will take me away. Even Cartman standing in front of us with an ugly smirk won't dampen my spirits. But the second he opens his mouth, my smile fades.

"Contestants-" He welcomes at the top of his lungs, arms wide. Contestants, characters, dolls, puppets; what a joke. "I am so glad to see you three standing before me at this wonderful ending-" You planned from the start that it would be us three standing here at the end. "I congratulate you whole heartedly-" We don't need your congratulations. It makes us sick. But then he pauses, resting his arms to his side again. And his grin widens, expressing his repulsive pleasure. "But there will be only one winner." He finishes.

I make a ticking sound with my throat in disgust. I know what he's hoping for. He's hoping that we would get at each other's throats for the winning prize. Whatever it was. That's funny. I don't even remember what the prize was. A million bucks?

"Well sorry fatass, but I don't even care who wins and gets the prize if that's what you're thinking about." He twitches at my voice. For a second I imagine him beginning to shout at me or glare at me, but to my horrible surprise, his grin widens. Maybe he thinks that that's what I think, but the other two are willing to fight for the prize?

"I don't care either," Stan says.

"I don't give a shit." Craig mumbles.

I smile, and give Cartman a challenging look. But his grin is still there, it's even widening.

"Well, that's nice" He says. But why is he acting so confident? If he's not expecting us to fight, then what does he want? I can't get that doubt out of my head, and apparently it's clearly showing on my face.

Kenny's words echo in my head again. But I can't think that all Cartman wants is to create an interesting show and show it to the world. I can't help but think that he wants to personally humiliate me, no matter how unobvious that would be to others. Despite the fact that I've been showing myself on the Internet for the last twenty days, I mean, that's pretty humiliating. But that was my own choice; I chose to be on this show. There must be something behind this, something that I have no choice in.

A loud cough draws me out of my thoughts and I'm back to listening Cartman's stupid voice. He grins.

"I would like to announce the winner of this competition! Don't you think it's cool that there aren't any stupid fucking commercials?" I wish I could just rip that grin off his face. He takes a plain white envelope out of his suit's pocket and opens it. I think this is meant to be a spit-swallowing, heart-thumping, nerve-racking moment. But my mind is still stuck with Cartman's plan.

I watch him as he takes a sheet of paper out of the envelope, slowly, dramatically. It's all just an act. He would know whose name's written on there. He knows…

"Ha!" Then it comes to me. Yeah, that would be pretty humiliating. "Wait a minute fatass!"

His hand pauses, just before a name reaches the tip of his tongue. "What?" He glares. And I smile.

"I'm dropping out!" I shout. Was that just me, or did I just see Cartman gasp? My smile widens. "You already knew whose name's written on that paper. Because you're the one who chose who won!"

"What the fuck are you talking about shrimpy-Jew! The winner is chosen by the viewers who vote on my website!" He gives me a death glare, which is much more comfortable to me than an ugly smirk.

"No, you had already chosen from the beginning who would win. And I'm stopping you." I walk up to him, my footsteps quick and firm. A smirk twitches my nose when I see beads of sweat on his cheek. "From the beginning to the end, you just wanted to humiliate me." I give his chest a light poke.

"Wha… You should get your head out of your own ass Jew. As if I would do all this just for you."

I guess out of all this time he's worried what his viewers would think. That's funny. He's no different to commercial television.

"If the eliminations were really chosen by the viewers votes and the winner is really fairly chosen, then winning money off you would be no fuss. But if it were all controlled by you, the eliminations and the winner, then it would mean that you always had absolute control. No choice for us. It won't be winning a prize, it would be donation from you. I won't be able to take that humiliation."

I glare ice into his eyes and watch the confidence and strength melt away from him. He tries to laugh to cover up his sweat but it's pathetic. What a fail.

"You are just saying that because you know that you're not the winner." He challenges. But I see the piece of paper in his hand scrunched up and hidden. I reply to him with a smile.

"No, I just don't want your charity."

I step away from Cartman, hearing his grinding teeth. And he calls to my back pathetically, as if he could fall any lower.

"Just remember that if you're quitting then you don't get anything! No one million, no fifty thousand and no ride home!" The last one stops my feet. When I turn back, I see a small smirk returning to his face. "Yeah, you heard me! You have to walk home alone, all the way through the woods and down the mountain."

Damn it. What an unbelievable bastard. Does he know how long it would me to walk back to South Park?

"I know that! I'm not counting on you to drive me home anyway!" But it's clearly a bluff. With my temper dampened and my stomach boiling I stomp to my suitcase and swing it up, forgetting its unbearable weight. The suitcase brings me down, nearly pulling my arm out of its socket, but before I hit the ground a firm hand lifts my bag off of me and holds me steady in the air.

"I'll carry it." A monotone voice says, which makes my heart skip a beat.

I tug on my suitcase in attempt to snatching it back, but when I look up, my eyes get lost in a deep ocean-blue and my protesting mouth is sealed close by another. It takes me a while to notice that it's a kiss.

The heat that flows into me is immense and I soon feel like drowning. It goes on for a second, or a lifetime. When my mouth is finally released my face is boiled red in this hot summer's day.

I forget to protest as the bag slides out of my fingers, but my feet stay on the ground when I'm let go.

"You got one thing wrong fatass." Craig says coolly after giving me one light smirk. "He's not walking home alone. I quit too."

In the corner of my eye I see Cartman's small grin completely drop off a cliff. But Craig ignores that. He simply carries my suitcase and heads toward the entrance of the forest. Ha. How cool does he need to act?

"Wait up, asshole!" A much more lively voice cries. "I quit too! That's a Super Best Friend's job!" And the other six-footer rushes past me and elbows Craig in the back.

A laugh breaks my silence. I can't help it. A bright, loud laugh escapes my lips and I can't hold it in. I can feel Cartman glare daggers into me and I feel Stan and Craig's confused gaze but I can't help it. I laugh.

"Hey! Wait up!" Laughing, my small feet rush towards the two entering the woods. It's a long way to go to South Park. We don't have any time to stop and listen to Cartman's shouting and swearing. "I can hold the damn suitcase myself!" But the two swing the suitcase out of my reach as if appealing to my short height. My laughing stops and I grind my teeth and now it's their time to start laughing.

Inside the woods is dark. The bright light of the sky barely leaks through the heavy treetops, but the small dots of light painted on the footpath are just enough to lead us home. By the time we get home it will be pitch-dark. I will collapse on my bed, ignoring Ike's rants and my parent's welcome back. I will send Tweek, Butters and Kenny a text to thank them and say that I came out all fine. In the middle of the night, after my family had gone asleep, I will sneak out and go to Stan's house for the night like when we were kids, because I remember the warmth and cosiness of his bed. Then tomorrow I will go to Tweak bros and say hey to the blond and ask Craig for the most confusing order on the menu. But that is not until after we hike out of these woods with blisters on our feet.

And before that…

I stop bouncing in frustration, aiming for my suitcase, and freeze on my spot, blocking Craig's way instead. Concerned by my sudden silence, Craig leans down to look into my face.

Now!

I take that small opportunity to grab onto the collar of his shirt and yank him down…

A second later a let him go and lightly lick my lips. I can feel my face boiling from embarrassment, but I try to ignore it. I give my lips a quick wipe and hide my scarlet cheeks. But I can't help but give him a challenging smirk. There. "You weren't expecting that were you?"

He looks at me blankly, his normally frozen jaw slightly hanging loose.

"That's for treating me like a weak shrimp, Craig."

I steal my suitcase off his dangling hand and make my way through the lightly lit up woods. A small hum escapes my nose as I leave the two six-footers standing dumbly with their mouths hang open.

Now it's my time to chuckle again. Oh how I hate reality shows.

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><p><strong>A.N-The end! Thank you so much for reading this story till the end! You guys are awesome. <strong>

**I'm sorry for those who wanted this to be Style, I mean, it's my favourite pairing as well. But I'm planning on writing a short sequel in Stan's P.O.V (maybe). What do you think? If you're interested please review! Even if you're not interested please review!**

**Lastly, thanks again for reading! **


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